
/ THE: IsffiS 

wonderful: 

FLOWER | 
WOXINDON 


mmmm 


JOSEPH SF!LLMANN,SJ, 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


(§{rap,<23?-_ (i 

' p z. 3 

< ->w ' - 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






























} * 































































> 



























































































'■* b 





























. i 








































• • 










* 
































42 







































































































' 












































































































































✓ 


















' 

- 

» • 


. 




















- 




















THE 


Wonderful Flower 
of Woxindon. 

An Historical Romance of the Time of 
Queen Elizabeth. 


BY THR/ 

REVEREND JOSEPH SPILLMANN, S. J. 


/> 

I 

ST. LOUIS, MO., 1896. 
Published by B. HERDER, 

17 South Broadway. 


X43^' 


I 


n. 






■ V 




\ 








Copyright, 1896, by Jos. Gummersbach. 




it 


Becktold & Co , 

PRINTERS AND BINDERS 
ST. LOUIS, MO, 


PREFACE. 



HE following narrative is an historical romance, 


JL not a pure work of fiction. The events 
recorded are true, and careful, thorough research 
has been bestowed on them to ensure historical 
accuracy ; and if in the colouring of the scenes, the 
bye-play of the drama, imagination has had a part, 
it has only been with the object of placing the 
truth of facts more vividly before the reader. 

The subject chosen is in itself one which cannot 
fail to be attractive and interesting. Babington’s 
ill-fated conspiracy, which was the means of bring- 
ing Mary Stuart to the scaffold, and thus crushing 
the hopes of English Catholics in the 16th century, 
forms the background of the whole, and no pains 
have been spared to render the account given of it 
as ample and as historically true as possible. Thus 
the title: “Babington’s Conspiracy” would per- 
haps be as suitable as any other for the work. 

The principal authority from which the facts 
are drawn is the Protestant historian John Hosack, 
in his work, Mary Queen of Scots and her Accusers . 
In contradistinction to Froude’s flagrant misrepre- 
sentations, he unsparingly exposes the barbarous 
statecraft of which the guiltless Queen of Scots was 


IV 


PREFACE. 


the victim. His chief merit is that of having 
proved convincingly, that the correspondence be- 
tween Mary Stuart and Babington, on which the 
accusation alone rested, was a palpable forgery. 
That the chief acts, as well as the chief actors are 
correctly portrayed, may be seen by referring to 
the authors quoted. The character of “the Virgin 
Queen” and the unedifying dissensions of the 
various Protestant sects, have only been touched 
on lightly, for obvious reasons. 

The fortunes of an old Catholic family, whose 
members*, by no fault of their own, were involved 
in Babington’s ill-advised enterprise, hold a prom- 
inent place in the narrative. Only in a few, unim- 
portant details, has the author permitted himself 
to deviate from the account given in The Troubles 
of our Catholic Forefathers, edited by Father John 
Morris, S. J. (Series II, p. 44 seq.) 


to ~ 




V 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter I. Prologue, in which the reader is informed 
how it came to pass that the following history 
was written, at the express desire of her Imperial 
Highness the Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia, 
and he is introduced to the three persons who act 

as narrators 

Chapter II. An account is given by my Wife of Wox- 
•indon and its wonderful flower; also of a guest, 
about whom there will be much to tell later on.... 
Chapter III. My Wife speaks of some other visitors 
who came to Woxindon, and of the important 

matters that were discussed there 

Chapter IV. An account is related of the two Priests’ 
martyrdom ; also of a very disagreeable surprise 

which we experienced 

Chapter V. My Wife too narrates certain incidents 
that occurred during the night that preceded 

her Father’s death 

Chapter VI. My Wife tells of Topcliffe’s wrath; her 
Cousin Page’s cowardly conduct; and the arrest 

of her Brother and Sister 

Chapter VII. The six young gentlemen receive a 
timely warning, and the gentle reader learns 

something more concerning their projects 

Chapter VIII. Babington brings a dangerous subject 
upon the tapis ; a final conclusion is arrived at, 

and I walk home with Tichbourne 

Chapter IX. Babington and I pay a visit to the 

Secretary of State 

Chapter X. We make merry with some new acquain- 
tances and some old friends 

Chapter XI. The incidents that occurred during our 
row upon the Thames, and a conversation that 
the Queen held with little Frith 


1 

11 

27 

40 

55 

74 

90 

110 

123 

136 

146 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter XII. Brother Anselm appears in his early 
character of an ardent Puritan and a diplomatist 

of no mean powers 158 

Chapter XIII. Sir Francis Walsingham allows his 
nephew St. Barbe to see his hand in the game he 

is playing 171 

Chapter XIV. The reader is shown how the snare is 

laid, and is introduced to an “honest man” 182 

Chapter XV. Two Queens, and what St. Barbe 

thought about them 194 

Chapter XVI. St. Barbe has a private audience of # 
Queen Elizabeth, and is driven into a corner by 

Miss Cecil 207 

Chapter XVII. St. Barbe relates how he endeavoured 
to set his mind at rest, and how it came to pass 

that he made Babington’s acquaintance 226 

Chapter XVIII. Windsor relates how he came to a 

decision upon a most important question 289 

Chapter XIX. The reader hears of a happy betrothal, 

and of another less fortunate courtship 251 

Chapter XX. Windsor repairs to Chartley, and is 

presented to Mary Stuart as her phyhsician 264 

Chapter XXI. Windsor acquires an extensive prac- 
tice, and hears a very startling piece of news 277 

Chapter XXII. Windsor describes his life at Chart- 

ley, and tells of his hasty return to Eondon 290 

Chapter XXIII. We pass a night full of terrors, and 

yet not barren of consolation 298 

Chapter XXIV. Important resolutions are taken, and 

plans are formed 810 

Chapter XXV. My wife tells how two fugitives 
arrived at Woxindon, and how a solemn festival 
was held beneath the branches of the wonderful 
flower 324 

Chapter XXVI. A sorrowful parting, and a venture- 
some flight 338 


CONTENTS. 


YII 


Chapter XXVII. St. Barbe visits Mary Stuart, and 
gives a report of his proceedings to his Uncle 

Walsingham 350 

Chapter XXVIII. St. Barbe speaks of the mental 
conflict he sustained, and how he was tormented 

by the demon of jealousy 361 

Chapter XXIX. St. Barbe relates how Mary Stuart’s 

letter toBabington was opened and deciphered 372 

Chapter XXX. I ride to Eondon on an errand of life 
and death, and meet with an incredible advent- 
ure on the Thames 382 

Chapter XXXI. St. Barbe tells how he gave his 

Uncle reason to be displeased with him 394 


Chapter XXXII. St. Barbe relates how Babington 
and his fellow-conspirators were arrested, and 
with them the innocent inhabitants of Woxindon 401 
Chapter XXXIII. How St. Barbe obtained irrefutable 
proofs of Mary Stuart’s innocence, and how his 


zeal on her behalf was rewarded 413 

Chapter XXXIV. My Wife relates her adventures 
on the flight from England, and what befell her 
on her arrival at Paris 430 


Chapter XXXV. My Wife gains access to the Tower, 

where she sees much to surprise and sadden her.. 440 
Chapter XXXVI. My Wife finds an unexpected 
source of consolation open when in the Tower. 

She visits some of the prisoners and acquaints 
the reader with the sad fate of Babington and 


his friends 457 

Chapter XXXVII. St. Barbe is consigned to the 
Tower ; he hears of Mary Stuart's beheadal, and 
shortly afterwards, he is set at liberty by his 

Uncle : 467 

Chapter XXXVIII. The three narrators meet again, 

and their story is brought to a happy conclusion. 483 
Epilogue, addressed to her Imperial Highness, Isa- 
bella Clara Eugenia 492 

































. 































































■ , ' • 









. K ' Is* 

































TheWonderful Flower of Woxindon. 


CHAPTER I. 

Prologue, in which the reader is informed how it came to pas’s 
that the following history was written, at the express 
desire of her Imperial Highness, the Archduchess Isabella 
Clara Eugenia, and he is introduced to the three persons 
who act as narrators. 

It is the custom of musicians, when they are 
about to execute some melodious symphony, to 
commence with an introduction or prelude, to 
dispose the mind of their audience, whether by 
the sound of trumpet and drum, or with the 
gentler strains of flute and violin, for the leading 
air, which will recur with runs and variations ever 
and anon throughout the composition. Orators and 
preachers too, say a few words to introduce their 
subject, and even the hardheaded philosopher does 
the same. It is not my intention to deviate from 
such excellent examples, therefore I will prefix a 
few suitable explanatory remarks to the sorrowful, 
but true history which I shall record in these 
pages, in obedience to the desire of my most 
gracious mistress, her Imperial Highness Isabella 
Clara Eugenia, the consort of our Stadtholder. 
And the task shall be performed to the best of my 
ability, according to the canons of art, that no one 
may apply to me the words of Yirgil: Rusticus es 
Corydon! Thou art country-bred, O Corydon! 

a) 


2 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Full well do I remember the day on which the 
Archduchess enjoined on me to undertake the 
work. It was one day last May, when, with Mary, 
my dear wife, I had the honour of accompanying 
her Imperial Highness, as was our wont, from the 
Castle at Tervueren to the monastery of the 
Capuchin Fathers which she had erected, and to 
Whose chapel she went almost daily, when the 
Court was moved from the neighbouring town of 
Brussels to our little hermitage in the wood. 

On the day in question our diurnal pilgrimage 
had to be postponed until a late hour in the after- 
noon, because about noon, a heavy storm, with 
thunder and lightning, broke over Tervueren. I 
am thankful to say nothing was struck by the 
lightning, nor were the crops, which had just come 
into ear, beaten down by the hail, although a few 
large hailstones fell, and the aspect of the sky led 
one to fear much damage might be done. The 
blest bells of the parish church were duly rung 
by the sexton, and the little bell of our St. 
Hubert’s chapel chimed in amid the roll of the 
thunder, like the voice of a little child raised in 
prayer. Thus we were protected by the power 
the Church possesses over the spirits of evil, as 
the old proverb says: fulgura frango. 

Towards evening, the wind having driven away 
the clouds, the rays of the setting sun shone out 
brightly, and the varied hues of a beautiful rain- 
bow appeared upon the arch of heaven. The Arch- 
duchess, who is well read in the classics, recalled 
to mind the lines : 

Irim de coelo misit Saturnia Juno . 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 3 

Only this time it was not the pagan goddess 
Juno, who sent this token of peace to the dwellers 
on earth, but the glorious Queen of Heaven, invoked 
by Christians in the hour of danger. 

Quae picturato coelum distinguit amictu 

Ingentemque fuga secuit sub nubibus arcum. 

Which lights up the heavens with her many- 
coloured robe, 

And spreads her vast bow beneath the clouds 
in their flight. 

In a little while we stood in an oriel window of 
the Castle, admiring the bow which God set in the 
heavens as a pledge of His mercy to Noe, when my 
gracious mistress remarked that the storm had 
passed over towards Louvain. “In a few minutes 
the rain will cease,” she said. “Then we can pay 
our accustomed visit to Our Lady of Dolours in 
the chapel of the Capuchin Fathers ; it is only 
right to return thanks for the protection we have 
experienced.” She then called for her cloak, which 
was similar in shape to those worn by the Beguines , 
and we three went down the stairs, followed by 
two maid servants. In addition to these attendants, 
the captain of the guard, Count Robiano, a 
Milanese, who had come to the Netherlands in the 
suite of the Prince of Parma, a good and prudent 
man, ordered two pikesmen of the guard to 
accompany us, as there were a good many tramps 
about in the wood through which our way led us. 

After a short prayer in the chapel of St. Hubert, 
attached to the Castle, the Archduchess began to 
recite the Rosary, as was her custom, while w r e 
and the two maids, answered the responses, as we 


4 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

walked along the path by the side of the large 
pond, leading to the beech wood. The foliage had 
to some extent suffered from the recent storm ; 
here and there a few sprigs of tender green leaves 
lay in our way, and some drops were now and 
again showered down on us, as the wind shook the 
overhanging branches. My lady paid no heed to 
this but continued to say her beads aloud, while in 
the copse on either side the little birds trilled 
their evening lay as joyously as if no storm had 
ever disturbed the tranquility of their happy state, 
and the spring dowers emitted their delicious 
fragrance. As we recited the glorious mysteries 
who but must raise his heart in prayer to our risen 
Lord and His glorious Mother, that after all the 
changes and troubles of this, stormy life, we might 
be taken up to the everlasting peace of their 
kingdom above. On reaching the end of the beech 
walk, where the path slopes downward through the 
pinewood to the valley below, we heard the bell of 
the Capuchin monastery close by ringing for 
vespers. Thus we arrived just at the right 
moment to join in the simple but devotional 
service of the Fathers. 

When vespers were ended, we went as usual 
into the monastery garden, which the Arch- 
duchess, as a member of the Imperial House, had 
received permission from the Pope to enter when- 
ever she wish, together with all her suite. There we 
seated ourselves beneath a spreading oak, and my 
old friend and fellow countryman, Brother Anselm, 
brought us fresh milk in wooden bowls, and slices 
of home-baked bread with delicious butter. Having 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 5 

set this refreshment before us, he was about to 
withdraw, with a deep obeisance, for his humble 
manner betrayed to no one that he was a son of 
the noble family of St. Bar be. But this her 
Imperial Highness would not permit, she made 
him sit down upon the bench beside the Father 
Guardian, while she began to converse about 
England, my unhappy country, where under king 
James, Catholic priests were still cruelly butchered 
for the Faith. In that year of which I speak, the 
year of Grace 1616, no less than five priests had 
been put to death, although the persecution was 
somewhat less violent than in the days of his pred- 
ecessor on the throne. At the solicitation of the 
Archduchess Brother Anselm, with the permission 
of Father Guardian, related some reminiscences of 
his uncle, Sir Francis Walsingham (of unblest 
memory) telling us of the snares spread by that 
famous politician for the Queen of Scots, snares 
craftily and cruelly woven, in which, as will 
presently be seen, not only that illustrious Princess 
was entrai>ped, but a considerable number of my 
best friends were taken. In fact it was only by a 
hair’s-breadth that I myself and my wife escaped 
falling into his toils. Brother Anselm interested 
us all so much in his narrative that we remained 
sitting under the oak until the monastery bell rang 
for compline; when her Imperial Highness in- 
stantly rose, and taking leave in the most gracious 
manner of the two monks, invited them both to 
visit her at an early hour on the morrow at the 
Castle, as she had a proposal to make to them. I 
did not know at the moment to what she referred, 
but I was destined soon to learn. 


6 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


When, on onr homeward way, we emerged from 
the forest and came out into the meadows, the 
scene which met our view was one which I have 
seldom seen equalled in splendour. The sun was 
just setting behind the hills of Cortenbergh, and 
masses of cloud, driven by the wind into fantastic 
forms, glowed crimson and gold in the evening 
light, while the tender green of the wood was 
tinged with that peculiar roseate hue than which 
nothing more lovely can be imagined. The Arch- 
duchess, who had hitherto been walking along in 
silence, stood still to gaze on the beauteous specta- 
cle, manifesting to man God’s power and great- 
ness. At that moment the Angelas rang out from 
the church tower, and we all devoutly repeated 
the angelical salutation. As the sound of the bell 
died away, one of the many nightingales which 
each year make the wood melodious with their 
music, began its evening song. Knowing that her 
Highness had a fancy for classical allusions, I was 
on the point of quoting the lines : 

Qualis populea moerens Philomela sub umbra , 

As in the shade of the poplars Philomel pours 
forth her plaintive note, 

when she turned to me unexpectedly and addressed 
me in the following words: 

“Do you know, my dear Windsor, what I have 
been thinking of whilst walking through the silent 
wood, and contemplating this beautiful sunset'? 
Perhaps it is hardly fair to make you guess. I 
have been thinking of you, and your dear wife, 
and good Brother Anselm. It seems to me this 
day may be taken as typical of your life; the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 7 


morning, one of chequered sunshine and shade, 
followed by a fearful tempest with thunder and 
lightning, which wrought sad havoc, but which 
passed over your heads, leaving you, by God’s 
mercy, comparatively unscathed, and even bringing 
happiness and blessing in its train, and when the 
fury of the storm had subsided, it gave place to a 
fair and peaceful eventide, so that you can truly 
say: post nubila Phoebus; when the clouds have 
passed the sun shines forth.” 

Thereupon I respectfully kissed my patroness’ 
hand, and replied that the comparison she had just 
made did equal credit to her qualities of heart and 
of head, and that a rhymster was wanted to clothe 
in verse so j)oetic an idea. It was indeed true 
that a cruel storm had overclouded the bright 
prospect of our early lives, and threatened to destroy 
them before they came to maturity. And if the 
evening of our lives was sweet and calm, like the 
quiet hours of the day now declining, it was ex- 
clusively due, under God, to the kindness of our 
illustrious mistress. Thus I could say with the 
shepherd Tityrus : Deus nobis haec otia fecit ; the 
allmerciful God had granted us this time of rest 
before the grave, that we might close our days in 
tranquility and freedom from care. 

The Archduchess smiled pleasantly, and said 
she thought the leisure I enjoyed was hardly 
as complete as that of the individual to whom 
I compared myself, who had nothing to do 
but blow his shepherd’s pipe to his heart’s 
content. If my duties as Court physician 
were light, owing to her excellent health, my 


8 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

post of secretary was by no means a sinecure. 
And she was just going to propose that I should 
undertake a work, which would require many days 
and weeks for its completion. The idea that had 
suggested itself to her was this. My good wife, 
Brother Anselm and I myself, had from time to 
time, either when gathered round the hearth on the 
. long winter evenings, or whilst seated under the 
shady oak in the monastery garden, related to her 
tales of the awful persecution that had over- 
whelmed us in England, and of the wonderful 
flower that blossomed at Woxindon, now it was 
her great desire to have these narratives, which 
were told in a fragmentary manner and by word 
of month, committed to writing, in consecutive 
order, and so as to form a complete whole. She 
desired moreover, that if I consented to undertake 
this labour of love, I should trim my pen and set 
to work the very next day, with the help of God ; 
because during my sojourn in Tervueren I should 
have far more leisure and quiet for my task than 
whilst resident in Brussels. 

When I perceived what was the drift of all 
the Archduchess’ prettily turned speeches, I 
tried to make my escape out of the net 
she had laid for me, but it was already too 
late, I was compelled to yield to her 
wishes. This I did the more readily, because she 
brought cogent reasons to bear on me, as for 
instance, that it was incumbent on me to write this 
record of the past, — called memoires by the 
French — not alone for my own sake, but to clear 
the memory of my friends, above all the unhappy 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 9 


Queen of Scots, who had been unjustly put to 
death, and against whom the enemies of Holy 
Church had invented and published many slander- 
ous stories. My wife too, threw her influence 
into the same scale, so that, had not gratitude to 
my patroness been a sufficient motive to actuate 
me. I should have taken up my pen for the sake 
of domestic peace, for Mary knows how to make 
me repent if I deny her any reasonable request. 

Whilst walking home down the hill, therefore, 
we discussed the manner, in which the plan could 
best be carried out. The Archduchess said that as 
our respective narratives would mutually complete 
one another, we three, Brother Anselm, my wife 
and myself, should meet together and severally 
narrate the story of the events in chronological 
order, as they took place. It was with this object 
that she had invited the Capuchin Brother to come 
up to the Castle with Father Guardian on the 
morrow. After our conferences it was to be my part, 
for as much as Providence had gifted me with a 
good memory and a rapid pen, to commit to paper 
what had been related, and at the next meeting to 
read it over, for correction and amplification. 
After that it should be neatly transcribed in an 
elegant book, which she would order from 
Brussels. 

This arrangement was accordingly carried out, 
only as Father Guardian was of opinion that it 
would be out of keeping with the simplicity of the 
Rule for a Capuchin to be a daily visitor at the 
Court, our conferences were for the most part held 
at the neighbouring seat of Count Robiano, who 


10 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

kindly placed at our disposal a room opening into 
the grounds of the mansion. There, or when the 
weather permitted, sitting under the beeches and 
elms of the meadow adjoining the garden, and not 
far from the monastery, we reciprocally related our 
respective reminiscences, almost exactly as they 
are transcribed in the following pages. 

It appeared to me, recalling the comparison 
made by the Archduchess between my day of life 
and the day then drawing to its close, that an 
account of that day, the one on which I received 
the commission to write this history, would form 
the fittest prologue or introduction to my narrative. 
I have therefore laid it before the reader. I shall 
now turn from the present, from the peaceful 
repose of a quiet country life, and think myself 
back into the troubled past, the scenes of strife 
and bloodshed of some thirty years ago, amid 
which may Providence be my guide ! 



CHAPTER II. 


An account is given by my wife of Woxindon and of the 
wonderful flower ; also of a guest about whom there will 
be much to tell later on. 

It is exactly thirty years ago this spring, that 
the wonderful flower, which my dear grandmother 
imagined to be a portend of happiness to us, nay 
even of a revival of religion in this land, blossomed 
in my parents’ house. Alas! that flower, far 
from being a harbinger of joy, was the forerunner 
of ruin to our house, and of a fierce outburst of 
persecution against our'holy Faith. But perhaps 
if it brought sorrow here, it brought the promise 
of felicity hereafter. 

Before telling the story of this flower, I must 
say a few words about our dear old home. It was 
an estate called Woxindon, not far from Harrow- 
on-the-hill, about twelve miles from London ; 
somewhat farther, that is, than our own Tervueren 
is from Brussels, and separated from it by a wood, 
St. John’s Wood, just as we are shut off from the 
capital by the forest of Audreghem. From our 
watchtower we could look over the tops of the 
trees and descry the gray walls and gloomy turrets 
of the Tower on the other side of the city. When- 
ever wind and weather permitted, my dear grand- 
mother, leaning on my sister Anne’s arm or on 
mine, used to ascend the winding stairs leading to 
the flat roof of the turret. There, looking across 
to the Tower in the far distance, we would kneel 
( 11 ) 


12 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

down and recite a prayer for the many Catholics 
and Priests, venerated Confessors of the Faith, 
who were immured in its darksome dungeons. 
There were always about fifty there ; with a large 
proportion of these we were personally acquainted, 
for Woxindon was known to friend and foe, as the 
principal place of refuge for priests in the neigh- 
bourhood of London, in fact in the south of Eng- 
land. Seldom did a month pass without one 
receiving a domiciliary visit, generally at night, 
from Topcliffe and his myrmidons, who turned the 
castle upside-down, pulled down partitions and 
broke through walls, only to go away at last, 
cursing and swearing at the futility of their quest. 

Topcliffe was a thoroughly low, bad man, a 
Puritan in whose veins ran adders’ poison ; pos- 
sessed not by one, but by a legion of devils breath- 
ing hatred against the Papacy. The mere sight of 
him made me shudder; not so my lightheaited 
sister Anne, who mocked and derided him, al- 
though my father repeatedly forbade her to do so. 
At the close of one of his fruitless searches she 
came forward and courtesied low, asking sarcast- 
ically when we might expect the great pleasure of 
another visit from his Honour, the Chief Master- 
Jailer? She would be glad to know, in order that 
some fitting preparation might be made to receive 
him, by the erection of a triumphal arch, some- 
thing in the form of a gallows, perhaps. Thereupon 
Topcliffe cast a vicious glance, like a poisoned 
arrow, at the girl, saying: “You will not have 
much cause to rejoice, my young lady, when I 
come again. I hope ere long, with the help of 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 13 

God, to wed you and a good many more inmates of 
this pestilential den to the hangman’s rope.” 

Such was the cruel threat he flung at us as he 
rode off with his followers. And, sad to relate, 
the very next time he succeeded in capturing 
Father Thompson, or Blackburn (the name of his 
native town under which he sometimes passed) as 
he stood vested at the altar, delivering a stirring 
discourse upon the Holy Souls, for it was All 
Souls’ Day, 1585. At the time we could not con- 
ceive how Topcliffe had contrived to surprise us ; 
later on we discovered, to our sorrow, that a 
wretched traitor had given him a sign, by means 
of a cloth hung out of a window, and had also left 
a side door unbolted, so that the pursuivants were 
in the house, before the priest could slip into his 
cleverly contrived hiding place. You should only 
have heard the cries and lamentations of uswomen 
on the one hand, and on the other the mocking 
laughter of those devilish bloodhounds, as they 
pounced upon their prey. My father happened to 
be absent just then, so the sheriff's officer took 
my uncle Robert, the supposed master of the 
house, away to prison with the good priest, who 
gave us his blessing as he went, though his hands 
were tied together. My sister Anne made no 
courtesies and no mocking speeches this time. 

From that day forth our grandmother went 
more often than ever to the top of the watchtower 
to pray and look towards the Tower of London, 
where the good priest was imprisoned, and New- 
gate, where her son Robert languished in confine- 
ment. And, truth to tell, I must confess that to 


14 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

my youthful impatience her prayers seemed ter- 
ribly long. My eyes used to follow the wide bend 
of the Thames, as it flows by Whitehall, West- 
minster with its desolated abbey, Chelsea and 
Putney, where the river looses itself amongst the 
green hills in the west. Beautiful Woxindon ! the 
beloved scene where my happy youth was spent! 
How picturesque the little village of Harrow, and 
the little church with its ivy-clad walls and 
tower, looked nestling on the gentle slope of the 
hill opposite to the castle! There the ancestors 
of our race were interred, from Godelac, who re- 
ceived Woxindon in fief from Richard II, dowm to 
my grandfather, who died before the end of the 
reign of Queen Mary, by the Puritans called 
Bloody (a name befitting far better her sister 
Elizabeth). He was laid solemnly to rest in 
consecrated ground; the last of the Bellamys, 
alas! who will have this final consolation, in 
England, at least. For when my dear mother 
died, six years ago, we buried her in our gar- 
den. Far, far away over the hills one saw the 
fertile, undulating plains of Middlesex, dotted 
about with farms and hamlets innumerable, wdth 
noblemen’s seats, towns and villages, w r oods and 
meadow r s, stretching away until even my sharp 
eyes could no longer distinguish them in the 
blue haze of # the horizon. In the East, St. John’s 
Wood shut off the prospect. Among the green 
tree-tops, at no great distance, rose the so called 
“Old Castle”. This was a huge ruined strong- 
hold, formerly the residence of our ancestors, 
until it was destroyed in the Wars of the Roses, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 15 


and Woxindon was built on a more accessible 
spot. Not only on the east side did the lofty 
beeches and oaks reach almost to the walls of 
our garden, but on the south and west also. 
Our grounds, with their shady walks, neatly 
trimmed yew-hedges, verdant lawns, gravelled 
paths, fountains and terraces bespoke both the 
wealth and the taste of their OAvner. The Bell- 
amys of Woxindon always ranked among the 
richest landed proprietors of Middlesex aristoc- 
racy. *) 

How happy our life might have been in the 
stately manor house of our beautiful estate, had 
it not been for the cruel persecution, which, 
increasing in ferocity from year to year, hung 
like a black cloud over its towers and smiling 
gardens. Already father found it almost imposs- 
ible to pay the enormous fines imposed by Par- 
liament, not merely for hearing mass, but for 
non-attendance at the Protestant service. These 
were increased nearly every year, and really 
amounted to hundreds, even thousands of pounds. 
To meet these demands, one piece of land after 
another had to be mortgaged or sold to the Pages, 
my grandmother’s nephews, who, for the sake of 
temporal advantage, acting against their convic- 
tion and conscience, had conformed to the new 
religion. This gave my father much sorrow and 
anxiety, insomuch that he repeatedly asked dif- 
ferent priests, whether, in order to avert the ruin 

1) For an account of this family vide Troubles of Our 
Catholic Forefathers, edited by Fr. J. Morris, Series II, p. 
44, seq. 


16 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

of the whole family, it was not permissible oc- 
casionally to assist at the Anglican sermons, thus 
conforming outwardly whilst still protesting in- 
wardly. But every conscientious priest made 
the same reply, that such a thing could not be 
sanctioned by any means, since to be present at 
the Anglican service was considered by our an- 
tagonists as a sign of apostasy from the Catholic 
faith. His pious mother, too, entreated him 
rather to sacrifice his property to the last farth- 
ing, than be false to his creed. Thereupon he 
called us all together one day in the upper room 
which was used as an oratory, and explained to us 
clearly the state of the circumstances. He then 
bade us on the following morning, after due delib- 
eration and earnest prayer, give him our opinion 
as to what course ought to be pursued. 

This we did, and the result was that all unan- 
imously declared they would rather, like good 
Lady Tregian, who was then under our roof, beg 
their bread from door to door throughout the 
length and breadth of the land, aye, and in foreign 
lands, too, than even outwardly and in appearance 
only forsake and deny the Holy Boman Catholic 
and Apostolic Church. The example of the good 
old Eleazar in the time of the Machabees, who pre- 
ferred to die a cruel death sooner than even seem 
to have transgressed the law of God, was set before 
us by our good Bartholomew, (or Barty, as we 
called him for brevity’s sake). He was a child- 
like, simple soul, whom the country people 3 termed 
silly, but who certainly was wise in the sight of 
God. He related this history from Holy Scripture 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 17 


with pious fervour ; it was the longest speech I 
ever heard from his lips, and touched us all pro- 
foundly, so that the tears came into our eyes. 
Father’s youngest brother Jeremy, too, (Remy we 
called him) declared himself ready to quit his 
father’s house for the sake of the Faith. Uncle 
Remy loved a jol<e even about serious matters, so, 
being a very stout man, he announced his inten- 
tion, since he had weight enough to carry without 
the addition of a beggar’s wallet, to cross the 
Channel and enter the Duke of Parma’s Light 
Cavalry, provided Queen Elizabeth was pleased to 
lay hands on Woxindon. 

On hearing that, my sister Anne burst out 
laughing : “Uncle Remy in the Light Dragoons ! ” 
she exclaimed, “why he weighs twenty-five stone! 
I shall follow the regiment, too, to see such a 
wonderful sight.” Then suddenly turning grave, 
she added: “There is no need to ask Mary and 
me. We would rather die a thousand times over 
than deny our Faith.” 

Of course I agreed to that heartily, though I did 
not add that the mere thought of leaving Woxin- 
don made me cry. My little brother Frith, too, 
looked up gravely from under his clustering curls, 
, and said he would not mind going begging in the 
least ; only he should ask the Queen to let him 
take his pretty grey pony with him, so that grand- 
mother, who could not walk far, might ride on it, 
as he had seen the gypsies doing, when they pass- 
ed by the castle a few days ago, with horse and 
cart and dancing bear. Grandmother praised her 
little pet for his thoughtfulness and rewarded it 


18 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

with a picture of Our Lady. But father said we 
must be prepared to make the sacrifice not only in 
word but in deed ; meanwhile we must retrench as 
much as possible, and reduce our establishment. 
He and his brothers would help in the field-work 
and in the stables, and we, that is his two daugh- 
ters, must occupy ourselves in the kitchen and in 
the garden ; but as far as the hospitality offered to 
strangers, especially to our persecuted fellow- 
catholics, was concerned, no alteration should be 
made, as long as he could call an acre of land and 
a stone of the manor house his own. 

Such was the unanimous resolution solemnly 
made before Almighty God in the upper room of 
Woxindon on one of the first days of April, in the 
year of Grace 1586. And, singularly enough, on 
the very next morning, as I was sweeping out that 
same chamber, I perceived for the first time the 
fragile plant, at which the more it grew, the more 
we wondered. It sprang up and grew in the ceil- 
ing, between the principal rafter and the mortar, 
both of which are covered with a smooth layer of 
cement or gypsum, so that we could not conceive 
how any seed could possibly have lodged there ; 
nor how, without any earth or moisture, the plant 
could strike root, and flourish as it did. When 0 
I first espied it, it could scarcely be seen, and I 
very nearly pulled it up, but on second thought, 

I left it there, to see if it could grow in such a 
place. It soon shot up, and put out branches 
and leaves, and amongst the beautiful green leaves, 
which were heart-shaped and serrated at the edge, 
five stalks appeared, each about the length of two 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 19 


fingers, with a little bud at the end. In course of 
time these buds blossomed into a delicate flower, 
cruciform with four slender red petals. And after 
the flowers had faded, it put forth its fruits, with- 
out rain, or dew or sun ; they had the aj>pearance 
of fine, blood red berries. Never at any time had 
we had or seen any like plant, and we called it 
nothing but the wonderful flower. We all went 
every day to look at it ; grandmother above all 
took the greatest delight in it, for she regarded it 
as a pledge of divine favours. Many were the dif- 
ferent significations given to it ; Father Weston, 
who often stayed in our house at that time, before 
the commencement of his long incarceration of 
seventeen years, looked upon it as symbolical of the 
five Sacred Wounds, although he declared it to be 
his opinion that there was nothing extraordinary 
in the flower itself, only the way in which it had 
sprung up and its manner of growth might certain- 
ly be called very marvellous. But that I leave to 
be taken for what it is worth, everyone is at liberty 
to form his own conclusions about the flower. 
Later events will perhaps show that it was not 
without its own significance . 1 ) 

If I remember aright, it was on the very same 
day when we first saw the marvellous plant, that 
Anthony Babington rode over from London to us 
with my Uncle Bemy for the first time. I can well 
recall his pleasant, comely countenance, just the 
one to take the fancy of young girls such as Anne 
and myself. He had merry, blue eyes, brown 

1) Cfr. Troubles of Our Catholic Forefathers, Series 
ii, p. 187._ 


20 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

curly hair, on account of which we used to speak 
of him among ourselves as “Curly head”, and 
above his well cut lips, about which a good- 
humoured smile almost continually played, a slight 
down made itself seen. He was always carefully, 
even foppishly dressed, and because of this my 
grandmother, who loved the old fashioned sim- 
plicity, took a dislike to him from the outset. 
When I saw him for the first time, he was wear- 
ing one of the new fashioned high hats, with a 
narrow brim and an ostrich feather. Over his 
silk doublet, which was trimmed with bows and 
ribbands, a collar edged with lace, but not too 
large and full, was turned back. A blue velvet 
mantle adorned with silver hung round his 
shoulders, and beneath that a broad band sup- 
ported a long slender rapier, of the sort called 
Alexander Farnese, in the place of the good old 
English sword and leathern belt. Such was the 
young fellow who at the side of our broad- 
shouldered, somewhat unwieldly Uncle Remy, 
came up to us girls, as we were weeding the 
flower beds, one fine sunny afternoon in spring, 
He bowed most politely when uncle introduced 
him, and Anne, who contrary to her wont, appear- 
ed slightly embarrassed, did not answer the jest 
which accompanied his words. The visitor ad- 
mired our flowers, and said he had not seen even 
in the royal gardens in Paris, anything to equal 
the tulips and hyacinths that we had then in full 
blossom. We told him that the Reverend Mr. 
Burton, who had come over from the seminary at 
Douay disguised as a gardener, brought us the 
bulbs of these flowers. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 21 


‘•He died, did lie not, under your roof, which 
is renowned for its hospitality among all the Cath- 
olics of England V 7 he inquired. 

“That is quite true, Mr. Babington,” I an- 
swered. “We buried the worthy man out yonder, 
under that oak, by the side of our dear mother. 
This wreath which we have been making out of the 
flowers he gave us, is to be laid on the spot where 
they both rest.” 

Then for the first time I saw an expression come 
into the young man’s eyes that made me think he 
was not as superficial a character as his flighty 
manner might lead one to imagine. “Most men 
would risk a battle to gain such a crown,” he re- 
joined. I did not quite catch his meaning, and 
I said that our simple wreath was but a poor em- 
blem of the crown of justice laid up for all those 
who, especially in times like ours, preserve the 
faith. Thereupon Uncle Remy observed in liis 
joking way that there was a fine preacher lost 
in me, and went his way with the young nobleman 
into the house. 

This Babington of whom I speak belonged to 
an old Derbyshire family ; he was the eldest son 
of Sir Henry Babington, a confessor for the faith, 
whose long term of imprisonment had resulted in 
his death. Anthony was still a student at Oxford 
when his father died ; after that he travelled in 
France and the Netherlands until he attained his 
majority, when he returned to England to take 
possession of his large estates at Dethick, near 
Sheffield. It will readily be understood that this 
young noble, who was as handsome as he was wealthy 


22 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

appeared to us as the hero of a fairy tale. As for 
me, my affections were fixed upon the cloister ; hut 
my sister who was a few years my junior, and 
only eighteen at that time, fell in love with him 
at once. She tried to hide this from me by call- 
ing him a vain coxcomb, and ridiculing his for- 
eign manners, and accusing me of being too fond 
of talking to him. But I was not so easily de- 
ceived, I saw very plainly that she was deeply 
smitten. 

Mr. Babington staid for a whole week with us 
at Woxindon, on the pretext of wanting to confer 
about important matters with Father Weston, 
whom we were expecting to return from a mis- 
sionary expedition to Berkshire. He generally 
went about, like the blessed martyr Campion, in 
the character of a jewel-merchant from one noble- 
man’s seat to another ; and verily he carried with 
him a treasure to offer for purchase, none other 
than the pearl of great price whereof the Gospel 
speaks. When the priests went on these mis- 
sionary journeys they were not unfrequently 
accompanied by young noblemen, who introduced 
them to the families who were either open or cov- 
ert adherents of the Catholic Church. In fact 
some years before, several Catholic young men of 
position had formed an association, with the ob- 
ject of affording assistance to the secular priests 
and the Jesuit Fathers, whom the Pope sent 
from time to time to succour his afflicted chil- 
dren in England. They used every endeavour to 
keep them from falling into the clutches of the 
pursuivants ; and when this happened, they exerted 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 23 


themselves actively in behalf of the unhappy pris- 
oners. On this Christian guild the Holy Father 
bestowed a special benediction, and attached to it 
privileges and indulgences. Mr. Babington was a 
member of this association ; it was while visiting 
my Uncle Robert in Newgate that he made the ac- 
quaintance of Uncle Remy. No wonder then that 
we regarded him as a dear and welcome guest. 

No one was fonder of him than my little 
brother Frith. From the very first he laid himself 
out to amuse the boy. When the sun shone, he 
took him out riding on his grey pony in the 
meadow, and when April showers blew up, and 
heavy rain drops pattered sharply against the half- 
windows, he would take a sheet of cardboard, and 
with a few swift strokes of the pencil, for he was 
an accomplished draughtsman, produce before the 
delighted child groups of soldiery : the Dutch or 
German Landsknecht , the Spanish arquebusier, the 
Swiss helebardier, nay even the Prince of Parma 
himself on horseback. Again he would cover the 
paper with objects of the chase, huntsman and 
hound, hare and fox, roebuck and deer and wild- 
boar. Then Anne would fetch her colour-box and 
attire the soldiers in green and gold, in red and 
blue, giving them a black moustache and ruddy 
nose, while peals of laughter sounded from all the 
three. For my sister had soon dropped her shy 
manner towards our merry guest, on the contrary, 
she was not a little saucy in her behaviour, so that 
my grandmother had occasion to reprove her with 
word or sign. It was all no use, and if I ventured 
so much as to say a word to her she pulled a wry 


24 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

face, and asked if I was jealous of her, and if I 
thought she did not see that I was setting my cap 
at the young Lord of Dethick. 

I need hardly say that I felt hurt by this un- 
sisterly speech, which certainly was quite unde- 
served, and I made a resolution for the future to 
keep my admonitions to myself. Besides, my 
father had witnessed this little passage of arms, 
and he only smiled, letting us see very plainly that 
he would have no objection to Mr. Babington as a 
son-in-law. One really cannot blame him for this, 
since in times such as those in which we lived, 
parents were naturally anxious to see their daugh- 
ters provided for. I never thoroughly liked the 
young man; he was too frivolous and jocular to 
suit my taste. I should have preferred a graver 
man as a husband, for my sister, I mean ; still it 
must be acknowledged that her sprightly disposi- 
tion was very well in keeping with his vivacious 
manner. 

Yet there was that in him, as my father said, 
which would make him a fine character, when his 
youthful follies were got rid of. He was a staunch, 
true-hearted Catholic, always ready to make sacri- 
fices for his religion. It was a pleasure to hear 
him talk about the captive Queen, Mary Stuart. 
His eyes sparkled and he grew quite eloquent in 
her praise. When twelve years old he had gone 
to Sheffield Castle as page to the Earl of Shrews- 
bury, in whose custody the unhappy Queen of 
Scots then was, and thus he had become acquainted 
with that beautiful and virtuous, but no less un- 
fortunate Princess. Our eyes used to fill with 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 25 


tears while he related how at her command he 
had often carried the dishes from her own table 
to the poor at the castle gate, and how she used 
continually to pray for her enemies and calum- 
niators, above all for her cousin Elizabeth. We 
could fancy how many a time he fell on his knees 
at the captive Queen’s feet, and kissed her hand, 
pledging himself to be her faithful servant. Then 
she would stroke his rosy cheek with a smile, and 
say with motherly tenderness; “ What would you 
do for me, my child!” and he would reply en- 
thusiastically: “I will set your Majesty free, as 
George Douglas did from Lochleven Castle.” 
Upon that, the smile would fade from her coun- 
tenance, as she answered: “That is all nonsense, 
Anthony! Douglas and other brave men shed 
their blood for me, it is true, but they made my 
lot none the lighter, rather the reverse. My future 
is in God’s hand ; beware, when you are grown to 
man’s estate, how you stir a finger in my defense, 
it might cost you your blood and even your life.” 

“Thereupon”, Babington added, when narrat- 
ing these reminiscences, “I used to assure her 
that I could have no greater happiness than to 
shed my blood for her sake. And what I felt as 
a boy, I now feel as a man. Who knows whether 
I may not yet meet with an opportunity to redeem 
my word.” 

The manner in which he uttered these words 
gave us to understand that lie had formed some 
design in connection with the Queen of Scots. I 
saw from my sister Anne’s face that she noticed 
this too ; for she turned pale, and fixed her large 


26 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

dark eyes on the young man with a peculiar ex- 
pression. Yet neither my father, who did not 
view the matter in so serious a light, nor either 
of us, asked him a single question about his plans ; 
we only talked in general about the captive 
Queen, who had been removed from Sheffield 
Castle to Wingfield, thence to Tutbury, and only 
last Christmas brought to Chartley Castle, where 
in Sir Amias Paulet she had a grim Puritan for 
her jailer. Only Mr. Babington observed casually, 
that Chartley was at no great distance from his 
seat at Dethick, and that he knew all the people 
in the neighbourhood very well. Putting two and 
two together, I felt little doubt that he had some 
definite project in his mind. 



CHAPTEE III. 


My Wife speaks of some other visitors who came toWoxindon, 
and of the important matters that were discussed there. 

Two or three days after Mr. Babington had 
been talking to us in that interesting manner about 
the Queen of Scots, the saintly priest, Father 
William Weston, came back from his tour in Berk- 
shire. He said mass for us, and afterwards deliv- 
ered a most instructive discourse on the words : 
u Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, 
and so to enter into his glory V 9 (S. Luke 24, 
2G.) For it was the blessed, though not for us 
joyous Eastertide, and well it was for us, at that 
holy season, to be encouraged by the example of 
Christ, who himself points out to His bride, the 
Holy Church, the way of suffering as the way that 
leads to victory. On the self same day Babington 
had a long conversation with this Father, the result 
of which, to judge from his manner, was not alto- 
gether satisfactory. Later on, unfortunately not 
until some three months had elapsed, I learnt from 
Anne what was the subject upon which they had 
conferred. 

Well nigli three weeks had now gone by since 
i first noticed the singular little plant in the 
upper chamber. In this interval, it had thriven 
amazingly, so that already the five little stalks 
or branches were discernible. One day we — the 
Eeverend Father, that is, Anthony Babington, 
Anne and myself— had gone up to look at it, 
(27) 


28 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

and give our opinion about it, when little Frith 
came running up to announce the arrival of a 
messenger from London, whom Uncle Eobert had 
sent to tell us that both he and Father Thomp- 
son were to appear before the criminal court at 
Westminster on the morrow. On hearing this, 
Uncle Eemy and Babington at once took horse to 
go to London. Father Weston went with them, 
passing as Edmund the jewel merchant, to afford if 
possible, the comfort of his spiritual ministrations 
to the condemned. Thus Christian charity urged 
him again to risk falling into the lion’s jaws. 

It will readily be imagined that we spent a 
considerable part of the next day in the Oratory, 
reciting psalms and the litany of the Saints in 
behalf of the captives. Towards evening Uncle 
Eemy sent a servant to inform us that Eobert had, 
by her Majesty’s gracious pleasure, been condemned 
to 18 months imprisonment, andafine of £1000 ; Q 
at the same time he was gravely admonished to 
desist for the future from all papist practices, and 
regularly to attend the public worship as estab- 
lished by royal command. The Priest William 
Thompson was sentenced to the terrible death in- 
curred for high treason, according to Act 27 of 
Queen Elizabeth. My father who had been ailing 
for some time past, was so deeply distressed by 
these tidings that he took to his bed in consequence. 
He said he thought it was almost out of his power to 
raise the sum of £1000 for his brother without mort- 
gaging the last remnants of his property. The sen- 
tence of death against the priest he did not think 


1) Equivalent to at least ^5000 at the present time. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 29 


would be carried out, but commuted probably to 
perpetual exile since there had already been three 
priests put to death by the executioner at Tyburn 
that year, and the Queen would be careful not to 
push matters too far. 

This unfortunately, however was not the case. 
As long as I live I shall not forget the 20th April 
1586. A beautiful Spring day had succeeded a 
long run of rough winds and rainy weather, and 
the warm sunshine had beguiled our grandmother 
to yield to our entreaties, and come out into the 
garden. Anne and I each gave her an arm, and 
thus supported, she slowly paced along beside the 
borders, drinking in deep draughts of the mild 
balmy air, pausing now and again to admire some 
fresh wonder which Spring’s soft fingers had 
wrought since yestereve. When, conformably 
with her invariable custom, she turned in the di- 
rection of the oak beneath whose shade the bodies 
of Fr. Bristow and my dear mother reposed, Anne 
stopped short, exclaiming : “Now, grandmother, 
are you really going to that grave again! What 
did I ask you to come out of that gloomy rooni 
into the bright sunshine for, if not for a little 
diversion for you and for us? Always sad and 
always mournful — I really cannot stand it! And 
you too, Mary, you go about with a hang dog pace, 
instead of helping me to cheer poor father and 
grandmother! Do look at the lovely flowers, the 
hyacinths and narcissus that are so deliciously 
fragrant, the dwarf fruit trees and espaliers one 
sheet of white and pink blossoms ; the old cherry 
tree with the bees humming in its snowy branches, 


30 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the beeches out yonder in the wood, their branches 
just tipped with emerald green, and over all a deep 
blue sky such as one seldom sees in this country. 
Do you not hear the chaffinch’s merry note! And 
oh look! what a splendid butterfly, just going to 
alight on the scarlet flowers of my crown-imperial 
— take care, Mary, you will frighten it away!” 

“O, Anne, you are like that giddy thing your- 
self”, replied grandmother smilingly, “if you can 
let the external delights of Spring engross your 
mind on such a day as this, memorable for the 
shedding of innocent blood. I hardly think I 
could have done so at your age. I remember the 
days when the Carthusian Fathers, when Sir 
Thomas More and the saintly Bishop Fisher were 
executed, I was then about as old as you are now; 
but good Heavens ! what prayers we offered and 
what tears we shed. Yet I do not blame you for 
your high spirits, far from it ; may you keep them 
long, only take care lest they go too far, and do 
not make great friends with frivolous, shallow- 
minded people.” 

“You mean Babington,” Anne promptly re- 
sponded. “Why are you so unjust to him! He is 
a zealous Catholic, and precisely for that reason he 
is not sour-visaged like the Puritans ; and it is my 
belief that he has more serious business in hand 
than you have any idea of, or that his light-hearted 
way would lead one to suspect. If we had but a 
dozen men like him, Burghley and Walsingham, 
and whatever their names may be, would not find 
it such an easy matter to drive Catholics like help- 
less sheep to the slaughter house! And if I were a 
man, I would do like feabington — ” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 31 


“You would bear your cross like a good Cath- 
olic as long as God may please / 7 interposed grand- 
mother with a solemn mien, “knowing as you well 
do, that the way of the Cross is the way of the 
Crown. But as for our Derbyshire guest, who 
seems to have made an extraordinary impression 
on my little Anne 77 , she added, casting at the same 
time a searching glance on the blushing girl, “he 
is either on very confidential terms with you, or 
else he is very imprudent. Who would let a child 
like you get an inkling of his plans, much less 
communicate them to you ? 77 

“He has told me his plans 77 , Anne cried ex- 
itedly. “You all heard what he said about the 
good Queen of Scots, who is our rightful ruler. 
Surely no one can deny that, since no less than 
sixteen years ago the Holy Father dep rived Eliza- 
beth of her pretended right to the Crown ! And if 
Mr. Babington or any other nobleman should enter- 
tain the design of delivering Queen Mary from 
prison, I for one should consider it to be a Chris- 
tian and chivalrous enterprise, and should support 
it by every means in my power . 7 7 

My sister spoke with her characteristic im- 
petuosity, in a half angry, half defiant manner, so 
that grandmother and I were no less startled by 
what she said than by the way in which she said 
it. We instinctively glanced around, fearing lest 
her words should have reached other ears than 
those for which they were intended. Fortunately 
there was no one near except Bosgrave, a faithful 
old maidservant, who was nearly deaf, or at any 
rate very hard of hearing. Believed at this, I ex- 


32 THE WONDERFUL FLOAV'ER OF AVOXINDON. 

claimed: “For God’s sake, Anne, take care what 
you are saying! If any Protestant overheard 
you, you would be thrown into the Tower, and 
torn to pieces on the rack for high treason!” 

Then grandmother said gently: “My dear 
child, who has put such notions into your foolish 
little head? Of course I should be glad to see 
Queen Mary set at liberty, and in possession of 
the throne which is hers by right. But as far 
as the government of this country is concerned, 
you are perfectly aware that the Pope declared 
that Elizabeth’s subjects were not to withdraw 
the allegiance they had SAvorn to her, and that 
Blessed Edmund Campion had prayed for her 
with his latest breath. Let us therefore pray 
God to bring her to a better mind, that she may 
return to the bosom of the Church, and that we 
may yet see happy days under her rule.” 

Our dear grandmother spoke with not a little 
animation, and a delicate colour tinged her usually 
pale countenance. But Anne stamped her foot 
upon the ground, exclaiming: “She will never be 
converted ! The blood of hundreds and hundreds 
of innocent victims, many of whom werer priests, 
cries like Abie’s blood to Heaven for vengeance 
against her. Only the other day Mr. Babington 
was saying — ” 

Here grandmother broke in really angrily: “I 
beg you will not be always quoting Mr. Babington 
to me,” she said. “Since when, pray, have you 
taken this young man for your teacher?” 

“He is not my teacher,” Anne answered in a 
more subdued tone. “He is a very good young 


THE WONDEEFUL FLOAVEE OF WOXINDON. 33 


man, and a most pleasant companion. No one can 
help liking him, he is such a noble-hearted, chival- 
rous fellow. Confess, Mary, that you are quite 
fond of him. He is a great favourite with Uncle 
Barty and Uncle Remy, and with father, too, not 
to speak of Frith, who began to cry when they 
started for London, because Babington told him in 
joke, that he was not coming back anymore. Be- 
sides we ought to be grateful to him for the kind- 
ness he showed Uncle Robert in prison. So do not 
be angry anymore, granny, dear, nor scold us poor 
children because we are not quite as wise and pru- 
dent as if we had your beautiful white hair.” 

Thus peace was again concluded, and just at 
the right time too, for at that very moment Frith 
appeared running down the garden path towards 
us. “They are coming!” he exclaimed breath- 
lessly. “I saw them from the watchtower. Uncle 
Remy and Mr. Babington and a lot more men on 
horseback ; they have just passed the clearing by 
the great oak, and will be here in another minute. 
I am going to tell old Thomas to let them in.” 

We followed the child as quickly as grand- 
mother’s slow movements permitted, and came up 
just as the porter swung back the ponderous oaken 
gate, the only means of ingress from without into 
our garden, which was enclosed by a high wall. 
We had only a few minutes to wait before the 
riders emerged from the wood hard by, and sprang 
from the saddle, throwing the reins to the porter 
and stablemen who stood by. Frith began to stroke 
Mr. Babington’ s chestnut mare familiarly on the 
neck, and wanted to lead her away to the stable, 


34 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

but to his vexation, Uncle Kemy would in no wise 
consent to this. 

We were longing to inquire about our beloved 
Father Thompson, but good manners compelled us 
to wait until Babington had duly presented his 
friends. This he did in an easy, graceful manner. 
Every little detail has impressed itself on my 
memory, and no wonder, because I then 
saw for the first time my future husband (far as I 
was from suspecting it at the moment). He was 
by no means the handsomest and the tallest of the 
six young men before me ; on the contrary by the 
side of Mr. Tichbourne, he almost looked small 
and insignificant. (Let me observe, in passing, 
that I hope my dear husband will omit nothing 
that I say about him.) As I w T as saying, Mr. 
Babington began to introduce his friends, each of 
whom in turn stepped forward and bowed : “Chi- 
diok Tichbourne, the head of that illustrious fam- 
ily in Hampshire, a lover of the muses ; Edward 
Windsor, brother to Lord Windsor, a disciple of 
Hippocrates and Galenus. These two gentlemen 
are both inspired by Apollo ; but the one indites 
his verses in his own tongue, the other adopts the 
classic language of Virgil.” On hearing this, I 
looked from one to the other of the two young men 
in question, for although I had read poetry, I had 
never yet seen a living poet. To my surprise they 
seemed quite ashamed of viiat was said of them, 
for they both blushed like a silly girl, whereas the 
other gentlemen, Thomas Salisbury, Robert Barne- 
wALl and Henry Donne x ), looked up bold and un- 


1) Cf. Hosack 1, c. II, 342. Babington’s Confederates. 


THE WONDERFUL FLO AYER OF AYOXINDON. 35 


abashed when they were presented to ns, the first 
as a Son of Mars, on the eve of going to serve un- 
der Parma’s standard, the others as friends of 
Diana, skilled in heron-hawking and fox-hunting. 
Mr. Tichbourne was a handsome man ; his aristo- 
cratic bearing and j)ale countenance, his brown 
hair, which he wore rather longer than was 
customary, his thick, close clipped beard, and the 
somewhat melancholy expression of his large dark 
eyes, rendered him to my eyes the very ideal of 
a poet. My future husband, on the contrary, 
looked more like an ordinary country gentle- 
man than one learned in the medical art and 
a tamer of Pegasus. He was rather below the 
average in height, and I could scarcely help 
laughing when I first saw his ruddy face and 
merry, round eyes. He is much the same now 
as he was then, only his beard has grown grey, 
his head is bald, and time has deepened the 
colour of his cheeks. In one thing age has made 
no difference, a thing which I did not discern at 
my first inteiwiew Avith him, but which has render- 
ed, and does render him dearer to me than the 
fairest Adonis could have been ; I mean his heart 
of gold. 

(N. B. of the writer. — For the sake of the last 
words I must forgive my wife’s strictness on my 
appearance. The fact that I have written down 
verbatim her not too complimentary description of 
my person, will convince the reader that it is correct. 
MeanAvhile I Avill revenge myself on her in a truly 
Christian manner — by depicting her as my memory 
recalls her on that day in question. Her deport- 


36 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

ment was sweet and winning, her complexion re- 
sembled the lily and the rose ; long silken lashes 
shaded her lovely blue eyes, which were usually 
cast down. Her golden hair was neatly, carefully 
fastened in plaits about her head, and round her 
neck she wore a lace collar of moderate height, 
nothing to compare with the enormous erections 
the Queen had brought into fashion. Her light-blue 
frock was made in an unpretending style, without 
great puffs at the shoulders. Her slender figure 
and gentle, modest demeanour formed a contrast 
to her younger sister Anne, who was remarkably 
vivacious and forward. Indeed one would hardly 
have taken them for sisters, for the one was tall 
and fair, the other short and dark. There is no 
need to speak of the changes thirty years have 
wrought in my wife. External changes there 
necessarily must be, though the sterling qualities 
of her true and loving heart have — as she is pleased 
to say of me — remained the same ; I will only quote 
the counsel of the poet (changing the gender) when 
he says ; 

0 formose puer , nimium ne crede colori ! 

0 lovely child, trust not too much to thy 

beauty ! 

1 will now allow my wife to resume her narra- 
tive.) 

Mr. Babington concluded his introductions of 
his companions by bespeaking a kind reception for 
them on the ground that they were all friends of 
his, scions of the highest families in the land, mem- 
bers of the Association for the Succour of Priests, 
and staunch Catholics to boot. Grandmother 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 37 


replied that they were more welcome as being faith- 
ful sons of the Holy Church , than as the descend- 
ants of noble ancestors, since she held the heritage 
of the Children of God to be far more honourable 
than any earthly pedigree. 

Then the gentlemen kissed our hands, and we 
all walked together down the broad path between 
hedges of yew towards the castle. At last we were 
at liberty to ask after Uncle Robert and Father 
Thompson. “My Brother is quite well”, Uncle 
Remy said in answer to our inquiries ; “he is a 
prisoner in the ‘Clink’ at present, and his jailer 
seems disposed to take a bribe, so it is to be hoped 
that we may be able to make his lot bearable, and 
perhaps even help him to escape. William Thomp- 
son however has received the martyr’s crown.” 

“Then the Queen has not pardoned him!” 
Anne exclaimed in her impulsive manner. “Ah, 
if I were a man, that bloodthirsty — ” 

“You forget yourself sadly, child,” said 
grandmother, not allowing her to finish the sen- 
tence. “What will our noble guests think of 
you ! ’ ’ 

But Babington instantly came to the rescue. 
“We think, Madam,” he said, “that your fair 
granddaughter’s just indignation does her great 
credit, and shows the generous disposition of her 
heart. Hearing such sentiments expressed ought 
to incite us men to form heroic enterprises.” 

The look wherewith Anne repaid her cham- 
pion was not lost on me. Uncle Remy also in- 
terposed : “You must not be too hard on our 
little madcap, mother,” he said in a conciliatory 
tone. 


38 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

But grandmother went on : “These gentlemen 
are very polite, and you are very kind, my son, to 
make excuses for my granddaughter. However, 
I never will have a word uttered in my presence 
offensive to her Majesty. The enterprises to 
which Mr. Babington alludes, will certainly not 
be directed against the Queen, otherwise they 
would not deserve to be called heroic, but rash 
and foolhardy. Instead of the blessing of God 
they would draw down on us His chastisements, 
and might perhaps be the means of costing many 
innocent persons their life.” 

How often at a later period these words, in- 
spired apparently by a spirit of prophecy, re- 
curred to my mind! They evidently made an 
impression on our guests at the time; I noticed 
Windsor looked very grave. But Mr. Tichbourne 
thanked grandmother effusively for her judicious 
admonitions, which he said were most well- 
timed ; yet he assured her that his friend Babing- 
ton would not undertake anything unworthy of 
an English nobleman and a firm Catholic. The 
example of the two martyrs, who had that day 
shed their blood should teach us to render to 
Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the 
things that are God’s. ” 

We were surprised to hear that two priests 
had been executed, and in answer to our inquiries 
Tichbourne went on to tell us that Richard Ser- 
geant, the scion of an ancient Gloucestershire 
family had suffered at the same time as Thomp- 
son. The sole offence for which he had been 
condemned, was having remained in England in 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 39 


spite of the statute passed in Parliament, declar- 
ing every priest who did not quit the country 
within a fixed time guilty of high treason. 

“It is clear, Babington answered, “that 
Burghley and Walsingham act thus in order to 
strike alarm into the priests who are in conceal- 
ment here, or into those who are expected to ar- 
rive from Bheims or from Borne. From what I 
hear the members of the Privy Council have learnt 
through their spies that a fresh band of heroic 
missioners are preparing to come to England. 
Walsingham alone is said to have some fifty trad- 
ers in his pay, mostly apostates, some of them 
being priests, who keep him informed of all that 
goes on in the seminaries and Jesuit colleges . 77 

“Perils from false brethren ! Just the same 
as in the Apostles 7 time , 77 remarked grandmother. 
“But the disgrace which a few renegades bring 
upon Holy Church is more than wiped out by the 
blood of her Priests. Lord Burghley is greatly 
mistaken, if he thinks to terrify them 
by executions. It is the hope of obtaining a 
martyr 7 s crown which allures them to these 
shores. But here we are at the house door. I 
pray God that the coming of these dear and wel- 
come guests under our roof may be blest to 
them and to us. All in Woxindon will be deeply 
interested and edified by hearing how the two mar- 
tyrs won their palm. I shall therefore ask you, 
when you have partaken of some refreshment, to 
give us an account of the manner in which they 
passed through their last conflict . 77 

So saying, grandmother conducted the six 
gentlemen into the castle. 


CHAPTER IV. 


An account is related of the two Priests’ martyrdom; also of 

a very unpleasant surprise which we experienced. 

As I have already remarked, my father was 
far from well, yet lie would not allow his indispo- 
sition to prevent him from doing the honours of 
his table to his guests, and setting before them a 
roast joint and a brace or two of snipe. Although 
it was already three weeks after Easter, there were 
still some birds about the outskirts of the wood, 
and Uncle Barty had managed to bring down a 
few, not with his gun, but with the old-fashioned 
English boAV and arrow. When the dishes had 
been removed, and father said grace, we gathered 
round the chimney place. The atmosphere of the 
high vaulted hall was rather chilly, though the 
day had been sunny, and father could not do with- 
out a fire. The dancing flames cast a ruddy glow 
on the circle of guests and members of the family, 
while in the half light beyond the servants and 
retainers stood, who had come to hear about Father 
Thompson’s death. 

Then Uncle Remy began to relate how with 
Babington’s assistance he had succeeded in con- 
veying a note through the hands of one of the jail- 
ers to the prisoner, bidding him when on the way 
to the place of execution, look up at the window 
over the door of “The Three Tuns”, a hostelry not 
twenty yards from the gate through which they 
would pass to go to Tyburn. He would see a good 
* (40) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 41 


friend standing there , who would wave him a last 
farewell with his handkerchief ; that was to signify 
a priest, who would give him the last absolution. 
Thompson himself had done the same, when the 
Reverend Thomas Alfield was dragged to Tyburn. 
But when Uncle Remy and his friends learnt on 
the morrow that another priest would be led to 
execution with Thompson, they tried to persuade 
Father Weston not to go to the Three Tuns, on the 
ground that he would be exposing himself unneces- 
sarily to danger, since the two priests could mu- 
tually give each other absolution. “However the 
good Father would not deprive them of the conso- 
lation.” continued my uncle, “so he and I took our 
stand at the window in question, when the time 
came for the procession to pass by. We already 
heard cries of “No Poi>ery!” sounding in the dis- 
tance. First came an interminable stream of the 
lowest of the people ; then a band of armed men, 
and with them the sheriff for the county, on horse- 
back, with several magistrates and members of the 
council. After them followed the horse to whose 
tail the hurdle was fastened, on which the two 
priests lay bound. By their side ran some Puri- 
tan preachers, exhorting them even in this their 
last hour, to abjure the Babylonian beast and ac- 
cept the pure Gospel. You may fancy how my 
fingers twisted at the sight of them. At last we 
were able to see the two victims. I am not 
ashamed to confess that my eyes filled with tears 
when I beheld them, patient and resigned, stretched 
on the hurdle, covered with the mire of the streets. 
Their faces were turned towards one another, and 


42 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

they appeared to be engaged in prayer. As they 
passed through the gateway of the prison, I noticed 
that Thompson whispered something to his com- 
panion, and they both raised their eyes inquiringly 
to the window. As soon as they descried Father 
Weston holding a white handkerchief to his face, 
they raised their heads as much as they could from 
the hurdle, in token of greeting and of gratitude. 
This action did not escape the notice of the ac- 
cursed preachers ; one of them, suspecting the 
cause, instantly shouted “A Priest, a Mass 
Priest! ” But I thrust Father Weston aside, and 
interposed my broad shoulders between him and 
the spectators ; besides, before the sheriff’s officers 
could catch the words above the uproar and tumult 
of the rabble in that narrow street, the danger was 
over. Our good old John hurried Father Weston 
out by a back door, and conducted him through a 
labyrinth of narrow alleys to the residence of Lady 
Paulet, where he is in security for the present. 
Nevertheless he is coming back to us after night- 
fall. I went down and mixed in the crowd, and by 
good use of my elbows contrived to get pretty close 
to the hurdle. But when we got to the vicinity of 
Tyburn, the throng of people was so dense, that I 
was unable to get near to the condemned. My 
friends here were more fortunate, so let them tell 
you about the execution of the sentence.” 

Babington then took up the narrative. “My 
companions and I,” he said, u were so near, that 
we not only saw every gesture, but heard every 
word of the two priests. We had ridden out early, 
and taken our stand not as much as ten paces from 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 43 


the gallows. Thus we had a full view of the hor- 
rible preparations for the cruel tragedy. I could 
not help thinking that very likely my own life 
might be ended in that way, considering that in the 
present day no Catholic can feel sure that he will 
not under some pretext or other be arraigned for 
high treason, and delivered over to the hangman. 
The servants had already lighted a huge fire under 
neath the vast cauldron into which the head and 
quarters of the martyrs were to be thrown, and the 
bystanders began to indulge in coarse jokes about 
the kind foresight of the Queen, who had the ra- 
vens ? food cooked for them. Thereupon our friend 
Windsor here, who has all the Latin poets at his 
fingers’ ends, observed to me in an ironical tone : 

Principe nil ista mitius orbis habet! 

(Never did a more gracious Princess walk 

this earth ! ) 

I for my part stooped over my horse’s neck 
and dealt the principal speaker a blow on the 
mouth, that would have felled him to the ground, 
had not the crowd been so thickly packed together. 
At the same time I told him beware liow r he let his 
tongue wag about the Queen’s Majesty. 

But my zeal nearly got me into trouble, for 
the mob raised the cry that I and my friends, who 
stood by me bravely, were papists, and called 
upon the Captain of the Guard to arrest us as 
traitors. God knows what would have come of it 
had not at that moment a murmur run through the 
multitude behind us : Here they come, here they 
come. Sure enough, the mournful procession was 
close at hand. It was a touching sight to behold 


44 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


the rage of the populace on the one side, the peace- 
ful serenity of the victims on the other. The hurdle 
stopped just in front of us, so that I had the privi- 
lege of throwing my handkerchief to the priests, in 
order that they might wipe the mud off their faces. 
Father Thompson recognized me, and smiled his 
thanks; he endeavoured to say something to me, 
but the hubbub was so great that I could not catch 
a word. Most probably he wished to reiterate the 
warning which he gave me shortly before his ar- 
rest, not to mix myself up in any dangerous plots. 
He wanted to give me back the handkerchief, but 
the sheriff would not allow of it. “Nothing of the 
sort!” he exclaimed. “We shall have a fresh St. 
Veronica perhaps, and more popish idolatries car- 
ried on with the dirty rag. Do you take care ! The 
rope is not far from the neck of every Papist.” 
One of the soldiers, who were loosing the ropes that 
bound the condemned to the hurdle, thrust the 
handkerchief into his pocket, and looked at me 
with a knowing wink, which I was not at a loss 
to interpret. A few hours later he turned up at 
the Bed Lion, a well known popish hostelry, and 
gave me the handkerchief for a crown piece. 
Here it is.” 

With these words Babington took from the 
breast pocket of his doublet the handkerchief in 
question, and we pressed around him to touch the 
venerated relic. “It is covered with spots of 
blood”, he said. “The scoundrel acknowledged 
that he wiped his hands on it, after the butchery 
was over. Will Mrs. Bellamy accept it as a mem- 
orial of the saintly Priest, whose last mass was 
said in her house*?” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


15 


“I shall value it more than gold and pre- 
cious stones, ” answered the dear old lady, as she 
pressed the handkerchief to her lips, and passed 
it round for all the others to kiss. “We will 
divide it presently, for doubtless you and your 
friends would like to keep a portion. Then both 
the priests met death with fortitude and resig- 
nation !’ 7 

“They died like true saints and martyrs for 
God. It was said openly that the fact of being 
Priests was their only crime. They prayed on 
the scaffold and pardoned all their enemies. 
“Jesus, be thou a Jesus to me”, were Sergeant’s 
last words. Thompson’s were : “Into thy hands 
I commend my spirit.” His last act was to make 
the sign of the cross. 

“Spare me the description of the horrible 
butchery that followed. My tears blinded me, 
when I saw the executioner tear the heart out 
of the martyr’s breast, and hold it up, still pal- 
pitating, to the gaze of the multitude, with the 
words: “This is the heart of a traitor!” And 
then as he threw it in the face of the dead man, 
I could not help thinking with what love 
for friend and foe that noble heart had been 
animated! Well, their heads are now fixed on 
London Bridge, where half a century ago Henry 
VIII. impaled the heads of the blessed Bishop of 
Bochester and the great Sir Thomas More ; where 
from that time until now, more relics have been 
exposed than Westminster Abbey could boast of 
possessing in the good old days. Their quarters 
are set over the city gates.”. 


46 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“And I hope to see the heads and quarters 
of all of you in the very same place before long!” 
These words, uttered in a harsh voice which came 
out of the deep shadows that lay across the hall, 
just as Babington finished speaking, caused us 
all to spring from our seats startled and terri- 
fied. “It is Topcliffe!” Anne exclaimed. 

“None other than he, my fair young lady,” 
said the pursuivant, advancing out of the gloom 
with a chuckle. “We are old acquaintances, eh, 
sweetheart?” And the brute actually tried to 
pinch my sister’s cheek familiarly. But quick as 
thought the girl snatched the dagger which Uncle 
Barthy, who was standing by, wore in his belt, 
and brandished it in the face of the insolent fellow, 
shrieking with pale lips, but flashing eyes: “If 
you dare to touch me with one of your bloodstained 
fingers I will strike you to the heart.” 

At this unexpected sally Topcliffe fell back 
two or three paces. Meanwhile my father and all 
the other gentlemen had drawn their swords, and 
the hall was in an uproar with the clatter of arms. 
The intruder retreated to the door, and shouted to 
his retainers who entered at his call. “Lay down 
your swords,” he then said, “or I will bring you 
all to the gallows, or else shoot you down on this 
very spot like a herd of swine ! ” To give more 
effect to his words, he discharged his pistol over 
our heads, so that the bullets struck our ancestor 
Godelac, whose portrait hung over the chimney 
piece, full in the face. I thought at the first mo- 
ment that my father had been struck, for he grasp- 
ed at a chair for support, and he sank into it, every 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 47 


vestige of colour leaving his face. I flew to his 
side and asked if he were hurt! He said no, but 
whispered, pressing his hand to his heart: “The 
cramp again !” I was going to run up stairs to 
fetch the drops he was in the habit of taking, but 
to my astonishment I was not allowed to leave the 
hall ; that wretch Topcliffe cooly stepped in front 
of me. “Not a soul shall leave this hall, he said, 
“until I have minutely examined every one pres- 
ent, for it is my belief that this time that accursed 
Jesuit Edmund will not escape me.” 

When I heard this speech, knowing as I did 
that it was directed against Father Weston, whose 
return we were expecting every moment, I touched 
my little brother on the shoulder, and under cover 
of Uncle Bemy’s portly form, whispered in his ear : 
“Now, Frith, let us all see what a clever little fel- 
low you are. Skip out unobserved behind these 
men, and run to meet old John and the good priest, 
whom this wicked man wants to catch, and tell 
them he is here. Your guardian angel will take 
care of you ! ? ? 

“I would rather get out of the window, ?? the 
boy replied, “if you can open it for me.” That was 
a good idea, for the casement was not very high, 
and there A\ns no danger in jumping onto the soft 
mould of the flower beds below. Fortunately for 
us we were standing close to a recess in A\ T hich 
there was a window, so while Topcliffe Avas look- 
ing at my father, I unfastened the casement, the 
boy clambered out, let himself fall to the ground, 
and I heard his retreating steps, as he ran doAvn 
the gravel walk. 


.48 THE AVONDEKFUL FLOAWEE OE AVOXINEON. 

Meanwhile my father with a great effort and in 
a faint voice, asked Topcliffe by what right he had 
dared, unannounced and without the pretext of a 
Avarrant, in defiance of Magna Charta, to invade 
the house of an English citizen with an armed 
force. A contemptuous grin passed over the ugly 
features of the intruder. He replied that those 
privileges applied only to honest Englishmen, not 
to accursed Papists. But as his conscience was 
tender, he had provided himself with a bit of paper 
from the sheriff. Thereupon he drew a document 
out of his leathern jerkin, adding : “You must be 
good enough to excuse my sudden appearance in 
your midst, my kind sirs, for we know by expe- 
rience, that the mice have a trick of slipping into 
their holes if they know the cat is coming. Besides 
I have had the edification of hearing the conclu- 
sion of the interesting narrative of the events of 
this morning, which one of these young gentlemen 
was relating so graphically. Ha, ha, ha! We will 
take care that a good many more precious relics 
are exposed on London Bridge and the city gates.” 

After uttering these mocking words, Topcliffe 
proceeded to interrogate, in a summary way at 
first, each of our guests singly, inquiring who he 
was and for what purpose he was here. 
Each one told his name and standing, 
saying that he was on a visit of friend- 
ship to the family of the Bellamys. “Is that 
all?” he asked. Salisbury and Babington rejoined 
that it was quite enough for him to know, and that 
they could not be required to answer any more 
questions without a warrant of arrest from the Lord 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 49 


Chief Justice or the Privy Council. — Softly, softly, 
the young gentlemen must not answer the Queen 7 s 
Commissioner so pertly, or he would have to teach 
them manners. He could tell them what they 
were there for; they were going to make their 
Easter confession to the priest, and get absolution 
for their evil lives. No doubt it was highly neces- 
sary, all the town knew how it was the fashion for 
the Popish gentry to waste their time in gambling 
and carousing, at river parties and the tennis- 
court. They would do well to take a pious book in 
their hand or better still, the Bible, and purge the 
old corrupt leaven of Rome out of their hearts. 

Topcliff e kept up a running tire of these caustic 
remarks whilst he was examining the young noble- 
men in turn. When he got to the last, who hap- 
pened to be my future husband, and heard that he 
was Lord Windsor’s brother, his rage got the bet- 
ter of him, and he roared out: “Say at once that 
you are Beelzebub’s brother! You shall repent 
playing off your jokes on me! You are none other 
than the execrable Jesuit Edmund!” So saying 
he caught hold of the astonished young man by the 
arm. Everybody who was present burst out laugh- 
ing ; and the man, seeing he had made himself 
foolish, turned Windsor’s head round sharply, so 
that the firelight fell on his face. When he perceived 
his youthful and blooming appearance, he swore a 
sound oath, and said: “The fellow is of middle 
height, and wears a green doublet of Dutch cloth — 
but his complexion is not pale. He maybe painted 
though, for these priests know all the devilish arts 
of the Scarlet Lady. Bring me some water, and 
we will see if his colour comes off!” 


50 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Thereupon our old Bosgrave, escorted by 
one of the bailiffs, was obliged to fetch a 
handbasin and towel, and Windsor must sub- 
mit to having his face well scrubbed, the only 
result being that his colour was heightened by the 
process. Shouts of laughter rang through the hall ; 
even our old grandmother’s features relaxed into 
a smile ; Anne could hardly control herself, while 
Uncle Remy held his sides and laughed till he 
cried. One of Windsor’s favourite classical quo- 
tations would have been appropriate at that 
moment : Risum teneatis , amici . Restrain your 
laughter, my friends ; for no one knew how to stop 
this chorus of merriment, led by Anne’s shrill 
treble, accompanied by Uncle Remy’s deep bass. 

It may well be imagined that all this did not 
put Topcliffe in a better temper. After he had 
given a pull to Windsor’s moustache to ascertain 
whether it was due to nature or to art, he left him 
alone, but made a rush at Uncle Remy, exclaiming 
loudly: “You were standing at the window of the 
Three Tuns beside the Jesuit this morning. You must 
surely know where he is. I know for certain that' 
he rode aAvay in your company. And if you do 
not instantly tell me, you shall be thrown into the 
Tower to-morrow morning, and before to morrow 
evening you shall make acquaintance with the 
rack, and perhaps get a foot or so added to your 
length as you lay.” 

“Give me time to get my breath again, Mas- 
ter Topcliffe,” my uncle answered with perfect good 
humour. “I am choking; and no wonder, for, upon 
my word, never did I see a more able valet - 


THE AVONDEEFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 51 


de-chambre than you have proved to my friend 
Windsor, — I will not deny that I was in the Three 
Tuns this morning, and that I witnessed from one 
of the windows, the shameful conduct of your 
underlings and your preachers. Somebody may 
have stood by me in a green doublet ; they are 
common enough in London, and until I heard 
that to wear that colour was high treason by Act 
of Parliament — for nothing of the sort is too pre- 
posterous in these happy times, under the bless- 
ings enjoyed under the new Gospel — I shall not 
pay great heed to the colour of a man’s doublet. 
Of this much I can at any rate assure you, and 
I am prepared to assert it upon my oath, that 
no one else was with me when I rode out of 
London this afternoon except my good friends, 
these gentlemen here present. Y our spies have either 
been misled by the dress Mr. Windsor happened 
to be wearing, or else they have put yon on a 
false track, because they considered the price of 
blood you offered them to be insufficient pay.” 

Topcliffe would most probably have pro- 
ceeded to ransack the house after his wont, knock- 
ing holes in the walls, upsetting all the furniture, 
laundering the storehouse and cellar, going off 
with his men after two days without having made 
any discovery, but not without a good deal of 
stolen booty, if something quite unanticipated 
had not occurred, namely the sudden seizure of 
my father with a mortal sickness. 

During the judicial examination of our 
guests, and the war of words which ensued, our 
attention had, I am grieved and somewhat ashamed 


52 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 


to say, been diverted from my good father, who sat 
bent down in his arm-chair. All at once I heard 
him draw a deep breath as if in pain, and look- 
ing round, I saw the ghastly hues of death gath- 
ering on the face I loved so well, while his hand 
was pressed convulsively to his left side. “Look 
at father, look at father ! 77 I ejaculated, throwing 
myself on my knees at his feet. “He is dying ! 77 
Anne exclaimed. Grandmother and the others 
also knelt down by his side and began to pray 
aloud ; whereupon the servants sobbed and cried 
as they gathered round, making a scene that 
would have moved the stoniest heart to com- 
passion. We had no doubt that the excitement 
had brought on another stroke, which the phy- 
sician had warned us would probably prove fatal. 
In fact we thought all was over, for my father gave 
no signs of consciousness, and lay back in the arm- 
chair like a corpse. 

We poor women did not know what to do; 
one called for the physic, another for the physi- 
cian, a third uttered the prayer for a departing 
soul. Then young Mr. Windsor stepped forward 
and took my father’s hand, saying that he had 
studied medicine though he had not yet had much 
practice, and might be of some use in this emer- 
gency. He at once informed us that my father 
was not dead, only in a swoon, from which he 
hoped, please God, to awaken him. The young 
man appeared to us like an angel from heaven, and 
under his direction we busied ourselves in rubbing 
the sick man’s limbs, and by the application of 
cold water and strong essences endeavouring to 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 53 


rouse him from the lethargy. When his respiration 
again became perceptible, Mr. Windsor succeeded, 
though not without difficulty, in getting him to 
swallow a few drops of some tincture. 

After that, Windsor said we must put my 
father to bed, and hot poultices and mustard plas- 
ters must be put on, and renewed during the night. 
Then a truly diabolical thought suggested itself 
to Topcliffe. He had been looking on with rather 
a shamefaced mien while we were engrossed with 
the invalid; how he came forward and said if 
Mr. Bellamy required our attention continually 
that night, he would not interfere, but he must 
be allowed to choose the room which he was to 
occupy. We all believed this was an act of 
hateful tyranny only done for the pleasure of 
annoying us, and Uncle Bemy spoke sharply to 
him about it, saying he wondered that he could 
take such a liberty in the presence of sickness, 
and threatening to lodge a complaint against 
him before the Privy Council. But Topcliffe per- 
sisted in what he had said, treating my uncle’s 
threats with the utmost contempt. And when we 
asked him, since he took it upon himself to be- 
have as master of Woxindon, where it was his 
pleasure that my father should be taken, to our 
surprise he named the upper chamber, where the 
wonderful flower grew in the ceiling. Former 
researches had made him intimately acquainted 
with every in and out of our mansion, and we 
had no doubt at all, that he had his reasons for 
selecting that chamber for the sick room; but 
what those reasons were, I was at a loss to 
devine. 


54 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

However for the present, there was nothing 
to be done but to make up a bed for father in 
the room indicated. As soon as all was in readi- 
ness, Uncle Remy took up his brother in his stal- 
wart arms and carried him up the two flights of 
stairs like a child. There we laid him on the 
bed prepared for him, exactly under the spot 
were the wonderful flower grew. 



CHAPTER Y. 


My Wife narrates certain incidents that occurred during the 
night that preceded her father’s death. 

Before proceeding to narrate the occurrences 
of that night, I must say a few words about the 
adventures little Frith met with. 

I have already said that the boy let himself 
down from a casement in the hall into the gar- 
den below. The jump did him no harm, the 
distance was only a few feet, he had often jumped 
as far or farther. He then ran nimbly along the 
terrace and behind the yew hedges which border 
the way to the gate. It must have been through 
an inspiration of Providence that he went over 
the soft earth, not on the hard gravel, otherwise 
his footsteps would have been heard by the guard 
which Topcliffe had stationed at the garden gate. 
The pursuivants had taken old Thomas, the por- 
ter, by surprise, as they did once before, and set 
a watch at the gate, believing it to be the only 
means of egress, before Topcliffe and the rest of 
his party slipped into the house. This they could 
not have done without being observed, had not 
almost all the servants been assembled in the hall, 
to hear the account of the martyrs’ death. 

Now when little Frith got near the gate, he 
heard the men talking together, and perceived be- 
fore it was too late that they were not our own 
people. So lie crept back in the shade of the 
yew-hedge — it was three weeks after Easter and 
( 55 ) 


56 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the moon was out of its first quarter — till he reached 
the cherry-tree, then in full bloom, one of whose 
branches hung over the wall. He knew this tree 
well enough ; only the year before he had climbed 
it without permission, before the cherries were 
fully ripe, and father had given him a scolding, 
and a beating, too, for it. Now he got into the 
tree, and slid along the branch until he was beyond 
the wall ; then grasping one of the smaller branches 
with both hands, he let himself drop to the ground. 
He fell a good height, but thanks to his guardian 
angel, he was not much hurt. Picking himself up, 
he ran along the way through the wood leading 
past Woxindon from London to Harrow- on- the- 
hill. Here however his heart failed him, for he 
had to pass the cross roads, where the way to the 
old castle turns out of the main road, and a grue- 
some ghost-story which old Bosgrave had lately 
told him, just then came into his mind. 

The story ran that more than a century ago, 
before the old fortress fell into ruins, one of the 
Knight’s serving- men had assassinated a fellow- 
servant from motives of jealousy at that very spot, 
and had been hung as the punishment of his crime, 
on the oak that stood at the crossways. Since that 
time the place had been haunted ; on moonlight 
nights two black dogs with eyes like glowing coals, 
had been seen chasing one another round the stem 
of the oak, till the castle-clock struck one, when 
they instantly disappeared. Whether this legend 
was idle talk, and the two dogs were really village 
curs at play in the moonlight ; or whether, as old 
Bosgrave, and many persons, whose oj)inion was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 57 


worth more than hers, asserted, the souls of the 
two unhappy serving- men wandered about under 
that form, is a question which I cannot decide. 
But one thing I will say, that nothing could have 
induced me to go by night and alone to that un- 
canny spot. 

Now Frith was only ten years old, so no won- 
der the poor little fellow’s hair stood on end, when 
j ust as he stepped on to the cross road, and caught 
sight of the old oak in the moonlight, he beheld a 
great black dog not ten feet in front of him. We 
tried to persuade him afterwards, that it was noth- 
ing more than the shadow of a large branch thrown 
across his path, but he persisted that it was a real 
dog, not a shadow to which his own fears gave the 
form of a phantom. I will not assert that he was 
mistaken, since it is quite possible that the evil 
one, as Father Weston declared, might have tried 
to frighten little Frith, in order that the priest 
might fall into the hands of the pursuivants. How- 
ever that may be, I know I should have run away 
as fast as I could. Not so Frith : he showed won- 
derful courage; he invoked his guardian angel 
and the Blessed Mother of God, then laying his 
hand on the little cross he always wore, and 
wdiich contained a fragment of the true cross, 
with the sweet name of Jesus on his lips, he ran 
towards the ghostly dog, or whichever it was, 
though he trembled from head to foot. His 
bravery was rewarded, for as he went forward the 
phantom slunk away among the undergrowth and 
vanished in the darkness. 

Just then a cloud covered the face of the 


58 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

moon, and under the trees it was so dark that 
the boy, who was confused by the fright he had 
had, could not find his way. In his perplexity 
he knelt down and said an Our Father ; scarcely 
had he finished the last word when he heard 
horses’ hoofs approaching through the wood, and 
then voices, one of which he recognized as that 
of our old servor John. He hastened in the di- 
rection whence they came, and met the riders at 
no great distance from the crossway. The old 
serving- man was much startled at hearing a child’s 
voice calling to him out of the darkness, and 
blessed himself in the old-fashioned way, with the 
words “All good spirits etc.” But the next mo- 
ment convinced him that it was no apparition, but 
his young master in bodily form ; and when he and 
his companion heard the tidings the child brought, 
they gave thanks to God, who had thus delivered 
them from falling into their enemy’s clutches. 
They then held a consultation as to what should 
be done ; the priest wanted to conceal himself in 
the wood until daybreak, and then ride on further, 
for fear of bringing his entertainers into trouble. 
But John would not hear of this ; he assured the 
priest that there was a capital hiding place in the 
old castle, only a little way off the main road, 
which communicated with our house by a secret 
way. He said it had often afforded a refuge to 
priests, and Father Weston would be safer there 
than anywhere else for the night. After a mo- 
ment’s deliberation, Father Weston consented, and 
well it was, as we shall hear presently, that he did 
so. The old servor lifted Frith up onto his horse, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 59 

and they all rode on towards the ruin, the dark- 
ness did not matter, for he knew every step of the 
way, and guided the horses with unerring hand to 
the foot of the square tower. Then he alighted, 
and after pushing aside a moss-grown slab of stone, 
he crept through a narrow aperture into a vaulted 
chamber, half- filled with rubbish, whither he beck- 
oned to the priest to follow him ; leaving Frith to 
hold the horses. Within this apartment he struck 
a light, lit a small oil lamp that stood in a deep 
recess in the wall, drew his companion’s attention 
to a bed of dried leaves in the corner, showed him 
a kind of cupboard contrived in the masonry, 
which contained some provisions, and finally en- 
treated him not to quit this hiding place, until, 
through the boy or some trusty messenger, he 
received tidings of Topcliffe’s departure. This 
done, John left the vault, pushed the stone back 
carefully over the entrance, and told Frith they 
should now make their way back to the main road, 
and together ride straight up to the garden gate, as 
if they had just come from London. He also said 
that he meant to behave as if he had taken a little 
too much, for the sake of deceiving the guard, and 
getting himself and the horses home without 
much ado. 

This was no sooner said than done. Frith 
mounted the priest’s horse, a gentle animal, which 
trotted along behind old John, who as he neared 
the gate, began to sing snatches of drinking songs 
like a man in his cups, so that Topcliffe’s men 
heard him coming from afar. Nor w T ere they long 
in giving him admittance, with a good humoured 


60 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

laugh at his expense. But the captain could not 
refrain from rebuking, in a few forcible words from 
Holy Scripture, the old popish sinner who was so 
intoxicated that he could hardly keep his seat in 
the saddle. 

Such had been the adventures little Frith had 
met with. I need hardly say that he did not tell 
me all this that same evening, but only came to my 
side when father was being carried upstairs, and 
pulled my sleeve, whispering: “It is all right. ” 
And even this one word, which took at least one 
load off my mind, nearly got me into fresh trouble ; 
for Topcliffe, who had eyes before and behind, 
flew like a hawk upon the boy, asking him what 
was all right, and where he had been. Frith did 
not let himself be put out of countenance; he 
boldly replied : In the hall, had he not seen him 
there*? and with this answer he got off, for just at 
that moment Topcliffe’ s attention was diverted to 
something else. 

When we had put my father to bed in the 
spacious room upstairs, beneath the very spot, as I 
already remarked, where the wonderful flower 
grew, Topcliffe took Windsor aside, and put a 
few questions to him. Immediately after, he an- 
nounced his intention of quartering himself upon 
us, with all his men. For the latter beer was to 
be served in the hall, with bread and meat, or 
whatever else we had in the house; for himself, 
as he was tired out, he would sleep upon a sack 
of straw upstairs, it would be time enough next 
morning to make a thorough search in the house. 
Uncle Earthy, good old soul, volunteered to play 


THE WONDEKFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 61 


the host to our unbidden guests, while Uncle 
Bemy took the young gentlemen to his own apart- 
ments. Grandmother and Anne withdrew into 
the adjoining chamber, to which there was no 
access except through the sick-room, where some 
easy chairs and cushions had been brought for 
their accommodation. At Windsor’s request the 
door of communication was left open, so that they 
might be called in a moment, should any change 
take place in his patient’s condition. I was to 
remain with my father during the first half of the 
night, to help nurse him and heat the poultices 
which were to be renewed upon his chest every 
quarter of an hour. 

I must acknowledge that the quiet, modest 
behaviour of the young doctor did not fail to 
make a good impression upon me, and he soon 
won my confidence. I plucked up courage to ask 
him, when my father appeared to have fallen 
asleep, what he thought of his condition? He 
shrugged his shoulders and looking at me very 
gravely, said: “Miss Bellamy, the first words I 
speak to you shall not be calculated to deceive 
you, therefore my answer must be this : all things 
are possible to the God whom we serve, but med- 
ical skill can do nothing more for him.” 

These words, which struck sorrow to my 
heart, were said in so kind a manner that through 
the tears that filled my eyes, I looked gratefully 
at the young man. As soon as I could control 
myself, I asked how long he thought my father 
might live. 

“A few days, perhaps even longer”, he re- 


62 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


plied. “But lie may go off much sooner, if he has 
a fresh attack, as I fear he will . 77 

“Then he is in immediate danger of death, 
and if it were possible, we ought to have him 
anointed '? 77 I inquired. 

He nodded assent. Then a sudden thought 
struck me. “Did that man — -that Topcliffe — ask 
you about my father 7 s state ? 77 I said. 

“He did 77 ; was the reply, “and I told him 
his condition was most critical . 77 

“Now I see through that wretch’s design 77 , I 
went on. “Listen to me. He suspects that the 
priest whom he wants to seize, is somewhere in the 
neighbourhood, or perhaps concealed in the house. 
He feels pretty certain that we shall risk every- 
thing for the sake of getting him for my father, 
that he may receive the last sacraments and 5 be 
prepared for death, and he thinks he will thus en- 
trap his victim. That is why he chose this room, 
which is quite at the top of the house and to which 
there is only one door, for the sick chamber ; he 
means it to be a regular trap, and I have no doubt 
while some of his party are carousing in the hall, 
he has taken care to station others on the stairs, 
and is lying in wait himself close by, like a lynx on 
the watch for an unwary roebuck. You may be 
sure that is the reason why he would not allow us 
to take my father to his own apartment, which has 
three doors, and is in communication with a back 
staircase! I could not understand it at first, now 
it is as clear as day . 77 

Windsor listened to me attentively and asked 
me a few questions, then he acknowledged I was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


63 


right. He went to tlie window, to ascertain, as far 
as the darkness would allow, at what height it was 
from the ground, asking what the rooms were be- 
low. I answered they were my grandmother’s, my 
sister’s and my own. “That is fortunate”, he 
remarked. “And under them?” — “The library.” 
“That again is well. The height from the ground 
will be at most some 35 or 40 feet,” he continued, 
asking me did I know whether there was a ladder 
of that length on the premises? I replied that 
there was one at the stables which would reach up 
to the roof. But why all these questions? We 
could not tell the servants to bring the ladder and 
put it against the house, still less could we send 
them to fetch the priest. — At the mention of the 
priest, Windsor asked if he was perhaps hidden 
somewhere in the house, where one might get at 
him without attracting the notice of the pursui- 
vants. I answered, no ; he was most jwobably 
lying hidden in the old castle, not more than five 
minutes walk from here ; my little brother Frith 
knew the jfiace exactly. 

After questioning me in this wise Windsor 
paced up and down the room a few times without 
speaking. Then he stopped and said to me in a 
low voice: “Miss Bellamy, I have made a plan, a 
somewhat venturesome one, but not, I think, im- 
possible. In such a case as this one must be a 
little daring.” He then asked me if I would help 
to get the priest into the house in defiance of Top- 
cliffe, and this I promised to do most willingly, 
not indeed for the sake of defying Topcliffe, but for 
my poor father’s spiritual benefit and consolation, 


64 THE AVONDEKFUL FLO WEE OF WOXINDON. 

provided the scheme was not too impossible of 
execution. He replied that the only, or at least 
the chief difficulty that he foresaw was that of get- 
ting out of the window down into the garden ; did 
I perhaps know whether there was a rope or a 
clothes line of sufficient length anywhere on the 
premises? I told him there was a clothes line hang- 
ing up in the laundry, and the laundry was not one 
of the outhouses, but under the roof, close to the 
kitchen. He begged me to endeavour to get the 
line, and bring it upstairs concealed under my 
frock, for if I could succeed in doing so, the first 
step would be taken in the accomplishment of our 
design. My little brother Frith could be gently 
lowered to the ground by means of the rope ; he 
could cautiously conduct the priest to the house, 
and it would be easy for his Reverence to get into 
the room by means of the ladder, and administer 
extreme unction to the sick man. 

I made all manner of objections to this scheme. 
First of all I said that it was out of the question 
for the priest, with no assistance but Frith’s, to 
drag a heavy ladder to this spot, still more to plant 
it against the wall, while to wake the servants and 
get them to help would be incurring too great a 
risk. Windsor said he would himself slip down 
the rope and help the clergyman. — But what, I 
asked, was to be done if Topcliffe persisted in de- 
manding admittance to the chamber whilst the 
priest was in it? — “Then we must bolt the door,” 
Windsor replied, “until he had got down into the 
garden again, and the ladder was removed.” One 
must trust somewhat to the help of Providence and 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


05 


of the good angels. The priest would not be many 
minutes at his work, for under exceptional circum- 
stances such as these the sacrament could be ad- 
ministered in a few brief words. 

I Was silent for a few minutes, thinking over 
the plan in my own mind. Then after an Ave 
Maria , said in secret, I inquired whether he had 
taken into consideration the fact he would be 
making himself accessory to an action punishable 
by law with the severest penalties, imprisonment 
or even worse*? He looked up at me with a loyal, 
generous expression in his eyes, saying that were 
he condemned to eternal death for such a deed of 
Christian charity, he should rejoice to have been 
able to render this service to my father in his last 
illness. All my hesitation was now at an end : I 
forthwith took a lamj), to go down into the kit- 
chen and fetch the rope, trusting to the divine pro- 
tection. Windsor gave me some good advice as to 
what I should say if I met either Topcliffe or one 
of his myrmidons, and down stairs I went, although 
with a beating heart. 

As I opened the door I fancied that the door 
of the opposite side moved slightly. As it was 
unoccupied, it struck me that Topcliffe or one of 
his men might be on the watch there, so I stepped 
up to it quickly, closed the door, locked it, for the 
key haj)pened to be outside, and put the key into 
my pocket. Then I went on my way, as if it were 
the most natural thing in the world just to turn a 
key in a lock. On reaching the lowest step of the 
stairs, I all but stumbled on one of the pursui- 
vants, and in my fright I uttered a scream, and 


66 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

nearly let my lamp fall. The man who had been 
placed there to watch got up onto his feet, and asked 
me very crossly what I wanted there. I replied 
that I was obliged to go down to the kitchen, to 
fetch something the sick man needed, but what 
business had he to be sleeping on the staircase 
at night! I could find a more easy couch for 
him than that. He told me I had better ask 
Topcliffe, whom I must have met upstairs, what 
business he had to be there; then with a mut- 
tered oath he resumed his seat on the stairs, 
and leaning his head against the balusters, went 
off again into a heavy sleep, for he had evidently 
been drinking deeply. 

Thus I discovered that my suspicions were 
well founded. Topcliffe was, in fact, guarding 
the approach to the staircase and the sickroom, 
with the design of seizing the priest in the act 
of administering the last sacraments. Had he 
not also stationed sentries outside the house as 
well! Certainly he might not consider that neces- 
sary, since he believed the priest to be already in 
the house. Yet it was possible, so I determined 
to step out of the kitchen door, which opened on to 
the garden, and just run round the castle. I per- 
ceived nothing unusual, so I went upstairs again, 
after I had secured the rope and fastened it be- 
neath my dress. For appearances’ sake, I carried 
with me a jar of electuary, and this time I managed 
to pass the sleeping guard without disturbing his 
slumbers. As I went by the door which I had 
locked, I thought I saw the handle turned, as if 
some one were endeavouring to open it from the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 67 

inside. It will readily be imagined that I was not 
disposed to assist him in this attempt. 

Haying got back in safety to the sick-room, 
my first question naturally was about my father. 
Windsor said his pulse was weaker, and his gen- 
eral condition such as not to justify us in putting 
off the anointing until the next night. I toid him 
what I had done, and asked him whether it would 
not be the easier way to fetch the priest and bring 
him upstairs while the guard was asleep! After a 
few moments’ deliberation he said that if, as was 
probable, Topcliffe was the individual I had locked 
in the adjacent room, he would make a very devil 
of a noise when he heard steps to and fro on the 
stairs, and knew the priest was being brought in. 
Or did I feel sure that the boy could get down- 
stairs past the guard and out of the doors to sum- 
mon the Father if he went barefoot and took no 
light with him! 

We concluded that it wo^ld be best to let Frith 
himself answer this question; accordingly I went 
into the next room, where I found grandmother 
wide awake, while Anne and the boy had fallen 
fast asleep in their chairs. After telling grand- 
mother what we meant to do, I tried to wake my 
brother. This was no easy task, for as soon as I 
got him to stand up, he almost fell down, his eyes 
were so heavy, and not till they had been bathed 
with cold water, could we make him understand 
what we wanted of him. But then a fresh obstacle 
presented itself, for it was impossible to persuade 
Frith to go alone and in the middle of the night to 
the old castle. The poor child began to cry, and 


68 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 

tell us about the black dog with fiery eyes which 
he saw at the crossways. I must acknowledge 
that a cold shiver ran over me on hearing this un- 
canny story, yet for my father’s sake I did not 
hesitate to offer to accompany Frith on his mis- 
sion. But Windsor, who saw from my face what 
an effort this would cost me, declared he would go 
with Frith, and to this my grandmother agreed. 

Thereupon my future husband, who had al- 
ready won my heart by his extreme kindness to 
my father, attached the cord, after he had made 
sure it would bear his weight, firmly to one of the 
mullions of the window. He then barred and bolt- 
ed the door of the room ; and, fastening the other 
end of the rope under the boy’s arms, showed 
him how he must hold it, to prevent it from 
hurting his chest. He also enjoined upon him 
not to utter a sound, whatever might happen. 
After we had knelt down and said a prayer to 
his guardian angel, #111 d grandmother had given 
the boy her blessing, Windsor let him down in 
the garden below. Then he gaA^e me a few in- 
structions as to the treatment of his patient, 
climbed out to the window sill, and deftly and 
noiselessly slid down the rope to where the boy 
was standing. As soon as they had both got 
clear off, we pulled in the rope, lest one of the 
pursuivants should perchance see it, and suspect 
what was in the Avind. 

We, waiting anxiously, counted the minutes 
as they slowly went by. My father grew restless, 
and from the symptoms w^e observed, we feared 
another attack Avas coming on, as Windsor had 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 69 


predicted, which might carry him off. Half an 
hour had passed ; grandmother took up her Gar- 
den of . the Sold , and began to recite the Litany 
for a Happy Death, wherein all the saints of both 
the old and the new dispensation are called upon 
to stand by the departing soul in her last agony, 
and conduct her to the regions of light. In a 
voice broken by sobs I answered the responses, 
listening meanwhile to my father’s laboured 
breathing, and endeavouring to catch the first 
sound from the garden below that might intimate 
to us the coming of the priest. I could not help 
feeling greatly alarmed; 1 had given my father 
the largest dose of medicine that Windsor had 
permitted me to administer, and instead of tran- 
quilising him, as it was intended to do, it had the 
effect of increasing his restlessness. As yet there 
was no sign of the much longed for visitor ; was it 
possible that Frith had lost his way in the dark, or 
had some unforeseen accident occurred? Perhaps 
the whole party had fallen into the hands of one of 
Topcliffe’s patrols? These and many other possible 
contingencies crowded into my mind and every 
moment my hopes grew fainter. 

Nor was this all ; something fresh happened 
which led me almost to despair of the suc- 
cess of our enterprise. The man whom I had 
locked into the opposite room, weary of his 
solitary confinement, or perhaps suspecting that 
some project was on foot, began knocking at the 
door, and asking to be let out. At first he knocked 
gently and spoke in a low tone, but I immediately 
recognized the voice as Topcliffe’s. Acting on im- 


70 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

pulse, I flung tlie key out of the window with all 
my might in the direction of the pond. I heard it 
fall with a splash into the water, and at the same 
time a slight sound coming from the stables reached 
my ear. What it was I could not determine, for 
just then Topcliffe began to hammer the door with 
his boots and call lustily on his followers to come 
to his help. 

What was to be done ! I almost regretted hay- 
ing locked the man in, and thrown away the key, 
for the noise he was making was enough to bring 
all of his men round the door, and then what would 
be the fate of the priest, should he arrive at this 
juncture*? And even as these thoughts passed 
through my mind, I heard footsteps on the pebbles 
beneath the* window, and at the same moment the 
top of the ladder appeared at the casement. Anne, 
.too, aroused from her sleep by the disturbance 
Topcliffe made, now rushed into the room, startled 
and confused, inquiring what was the matter? Be- 
fore I could explain the situation to her, Windsor 
stepped in through the open window. He had 
heard Topcliffe’ s shouts in the garden below, and 
naturally wanted to ascertain what had passed in 
his absence, before exposing the priest to the dan- 
ger of losing his life, and that perhaps uselessly. 
Just as Windsor entered, I heard voices outside 
the door; Uncle Remy, Barthy, Babington and 
others were asking Topcliffe what he was thinking 
of, to make such an infernal noise close to the 
chamber where a man lay dying. In answer to his 
rejoinder Uncle Remy was heard to bid him for 
God’s sake be quiet, and search should be made 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 71 

for the missing key. Windsor overheard these 
words, and whispered to me: “That will give us 
a few moments’ respite, we must lose no time.” 

Thereupon he returned to the window and 
gave a signal ; a few seconds later Father Weston, 
with his assistance, stepped in over the windowsill. 
Never shall I forget the serenity of that saintly 
man’s countenance, unruffled either by the strange 
manner whereby he had gained admittance, or by 
the great peril to which he was exposing himself in 
the performance of his sacred functions. Only a 
few yards off Topcliffe, who seemed to know by 
intuition that a hated priest was near, as a hawk 
descries from afar an innocent dove, began to rage 
and bellow anew, while the gentle voice of God’s 
minister pronounced the salutation which the 
Church places on the lips of the priest on his en- 
trance into the sick-room : Pax huic domui et omni- 
bus habitantibus in ea. When dropping the brush 
into the vessel of holy water which grandmother 
held out to him, he sprinkled the bed and the suf- 
ferer. Singular to relate, at that moment my 
father, who had been lying in a state of uncon- 
sciousness, with closed eyes, looked up, and 
glancing at all the bystanders, beckoned to the 
priest to come to his side. We withdrew into the 
adjoining room while he made his confession; 
it did not take long, for my father had made his 
Easter only a fortnight before, and we were soon 
summoned to his bedside, where preparations were 
being made to anoint him. Kneeling down, we 
recited the responses to the prayers, said calmly 
but rapidly by the priest, since the uproar outside 


72 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF "VVOXINDON. 

the door was increasing every moment, Windsor 
urged him to be quick, for in vain did he beg the 
pursuivants, with whom Uncle Bemy and Babing- 
ton were parleying, to make less noise out of con- 
sideration for a man at the point of death. Accord- 
ingly, as soon as Father Weston had anointed my 
father, he gave him the last absolutions, omitting 
the other prayers prescribed by the ritual, held the 
crucifix to his lips, exhorted him to place his 
whole trust in the mercy of God, and then in an- 
swer to our entreaties that he would no longer thus 
imperil his life, got out of the window, descended 
the ladder and disappeared in the darkness. 

It was not a moment too soon, for when Uncle 
Bemy and Uncle Barthy heard Windsor say that 
father was dying, they besought him to let them 
in. So when we had moved the ladder to one side, 
closed the window, and hidden the rope under the 
bed, we opened the door. Large as the room was, 
it was quickly filled ; my uncles, the gentlemen 
staying in the house and the servants, stood or 
knelt with us around the bed, while the pursui- 
vants looked on stolidly from a distance. For a 
time my father lay motionless, his countenance 
expressive of heavenly peace, listening to the 
prayers his mother recited in a low voice. 

Presently he beckoned Anne and myself to his 
side, laid his hand in benediction upon our heads. 
Seeing that his eyes wandered in search of little 
Frith, I whispered to him that the boy was not 
there, and from his look of intelligence I knew 
that he understood that he was gone to conduct 
the priest back to his hiding place. Pressing his 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


73 


good old mother’s hand, he thanked her for all the 
love she had shown him ; he also bade his brothers 
an affectionate farewell, commending us especially 
to Uncle Kemy’s care. To each of the servants 
standing sobbing around he addressed a kind word; 
then making one last effort, he raised the hand 
which held the crucifix, and murmured, in accents 
that were scarcely audible : “Hold fast the ancient 
faith, the true faith! Hold it fast, every one of 
you.” He tried to add something more, I think 
about meeting again in heaven, but we could not 
catch the words. His arm dropped on to the 
coverlet and his last agony began. 

Sounds of lamentation and weeping, words of 
prayer were heard on all sides ; even the pursuiv- 
ants were touched, and those who were engaged in 
breaking open Topcliffe’s door, desisted for a 
while. Even at this distance of time, the remem- 
brance of that scene makes me shed tears. 

On the 21st of April, at break of day, my dear 
father breathed his last. As through the tears 
that blinded me, I glanced upwards from his 
beloved countenance, I noticed that one of the five 
buds of the wonderful flower on the ceiling above 
had opened, and blossomed out into a delicate 
little red flower. 



CHAPTER YI. 


My Wife tells of Topcliffe’s wrath ; her Cousin Page’s cow- 
ardly conduct ; and the arrest of her brother and sister. 

We had little leisure in which to indulge our 
grief. Perhaps it was well that it was so ; in my 
case at least, anxiety concerning Frith and the good 
priest certainly did much to assuage my sorrow 
for the death of my dear father. While grand- 
mother and Anne still knelt weeping at the bed- 
side, I acquainted Uncle Remy, in as few words as 
possible with what had taken place, and he slipped 
out and went down into the garden, to remove the 
ladder and to ascertain whether the entrance to 
the secret passage leading to the old castle, which 
was in the garden wall behind the barn, had been 
properly barred again, and completely concealed 
by a pile of faggots. 

It was not long before the oaken panels of the 
door of the room where Topcliffe was imprisoned 
gave way, and he burst in upon us, like a mad 
bull. In all my life I never saw a man in such a 
fury; he was quite white, and foaming at the 
mouth. Even the solemn presence of death, which 
generally overawes the rudest of mankind, had no 
effect on him. He rolled his bloodshot eyes round 
the room, in search of a victim on Avhom to vent 
his wrath, finally fixing on my sister Anne. “It 
was you who locked me in!” he shrieked out at 
her ; “It was you who turned the key and took it 
out! It is your doing that I could not catch the 
( 74 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 75 


son of Belial, who this very night sped that stub- 
born Papist on his way to hell! You and all your 
accomplices shall pay heavily for this! ” 

He actually went so far as to seize Anne by 
the hair of her head and call upon liis myrmidons 
to handcuff her. A terrible uproar ensued. Bab- 
ington drew his sword, and his friends followed 
his example. He declared he would not stand by 
and see a young lady of rank maltreated in the 
presence of her father’s corpse ; and if it cost him 
his life, his good sword should be the means of 
sending Topcliffe to the judgment seat of God, and 
he would answer for the deed before the Queen’s 
tribunal. Seeing the young man meant what he 
said, Topcliffe hastened to leave go of Anne, for 
the bully is proverbially a coward. Retreating to 
where his own men stood, he bade them disarm the 
young gentlemen, and the scene would have been 
one of bloodshed and violence, had not IJncle 
Bartliy, good old soul, interfered between Babing- 
ton and Topcliffe’ s followers. He entreated them 
to keep the peace, saying never would he or his 
friends use force to prevent her Majesty’s commis- 
sioners from fulfilling their duty ; let them make 
inquiry, and if it was found that Anne, or any one 
else had transgressed the law, the culprit should 
undergo the penalty of his offence, even though 
the law was an unjust one, in imitation of the early 
martyrs who had submitted to the decrees of the 
heathen Enq^erors. At the same time he warned 
the Queen’s servant not to make any misuse of his 
power, for by doing so lie would bring odium on 
the Government. With these pacific words, Uncle 


76 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Barthy induced Babington to sheathe his sword 
again, and Topcliffe, furious though he was, took 
himself a little in hand, and spoke in an altered 
key. And when he told Babington that he should 
charge him before the Secretary of State, for having 
dared to draw his sword against an officer of the 
Crown in the discharge of his duty, and wanted to 
interrogate him then and there, we prevailed upon 
him to adjourn to the hall, and institute the pro- 
ceedings there. Thither therefore we all betook 
ourselves. 

First of all, Topcliffe let fly against Anne, 
asserting that he had seen her come out of my 
father’s room and from malice prepense, turn the 
lock on him. As we were dressed alike, it is 
most probable that he mistook me for my sister. 
Of course Anne denied this, and declared — what 
was moreover quite true — that during the whole 
night she had not quitted the chamber for a single 
instant. It was all no use, since Topcliffe assever- 
ated that through the chink of the door, he had 
with his own eyes seen her rush, like a fury, at the 
handle, and for such an insult against the Queen’s 
Commissioner she must go with him as his prisoner 
to London, there to answer for her conduct before 
the Privy Council. My poor sister could not make 
as light of this as she did of most things ; indeed, 
she was more ready to cry than to laugh. 

I therefore stepped boldly forward and owned 
that I had been the one to lock the door, and that 
when I did so, I was not aware of Topcliffe’s pres- 
ence within the room. (This was no departure 
from the truth, since I did not know, but only 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 77 


suspected that he was there.) The man glared at 
me, burst into a hoarse laugh, saying he did not 
believe I was capable of playing him such a trick, 
but he had no doubt I should not hesitate to tell a 
lie, to get my sister out of a scrape. Where was 
I going to, he inquired, and what did I want on 
the stairs % I replied, that I had gone down into 
the kitchen to fetch something that was required 
for my father, and that the soldier who was on 
guard at the foot of the staircase could bear wit- 
ness that it was I, not my sister, who had passed 
by him. Topcliffe immediately had the man 
called in ; but whether he had not yet slept off the 
fumes of liquor, or whether he saw what Topcliffe 
wished him to say, at any rate, he asserted it to be 
his conviction that the young lady, who nearly 
stumbled over him last night was not so tall as 
myself. Thereupon Topcliffe without further ques- 
tioning arrested my sister in the Queen’s name. 
Anne burst out crying; I appealed to Windsor to 
give evidence that I, not she, had left the room. 
All in vain ; Topcliffe denounced us all as a lot of 
lying Papists and said he believed the testimony 
of his own eyes and his watchman’s before that of 
our tongues. Having delivered my sister over to 
the charge of two halberdiers, he proceeded to 
announce that, as it was now broad daylight, he 
intended to make a thorough search of the house 
and garden. He was quite certain he said that in 
the course of the aforegoing night, a mass priest 
had been with the sick man, and he could not now 
be very far off. Seeing a bunch of keys hanging 
at my waist'band, he ordered me to go with him. 


78 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Resistance was useless; consequently while the 
rest of the party remained under surveillance in 
the hall, I was compelled to accompany the odious 
creature, with half a dozen of the most cunning of 
his satellites, upstairs and downstairs, into every 
corner and cranny of the house ; standing by, an un- 
willing spectator, while every door was unlocked, 
every wall measured, and every part that appeared 
suspiciously thick struck with a hammer to ascer- 
tain whether it sounded hollow, and might conceal 
a secret chamber. I was quite afraid that the 
principal hiding place would be discovered. There 
was no one in it, it is true, but its disclosure 
would have brought us into sad trouble. For full 
five minutes Topeliffe stood on the stone under the 
back stairs, which concealed a subway into the 

barn hard by, where Brother a lay Jesuit, 

very clever at concealment, had contrived a capital 
hiding place. However this time our tormentor 
did not succeed in routing anything out; the fail- 
ure did not improve his temper, and very crossly 
he made me a sign to accompany him to the garden 
and outbuildings. 

In the barn and woodshed he thrust his sword 
recklessly in and out of the trusses of hay and 
straw and between the piles of firewood, bidding 
his men to toss the faggots from one corner to 
another. Still nothing was found, and I began to 
think the work was over, when he caught sight of 
the ladders, hanging from wooden pegs outside the 
stables. It happened that the smaller ladder was 
only suspended from one peg, so that it hung awry 
one end resting on the ground. As everything 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 79 


else was in the most perfect order, thanks to old 
John’s care, this little jflece of carelessness 
struck Topcliffe, and he went close up to the lad- 
ders. Thus he was led to notice some fresh garden 
mould adhering to the foot of the larger ladder. 
“Hullo!” he exclaimed, “it is Gospel truth, this 
ladder has been used, and within a few hours 
too! Now I know the way that accursed mass 
priest got into the old fool’s room. What do you 
say to that, Miss Bellamy ? ” 

What indeed could I say? In my confusion 
I could only stammer something about the ladder 
being in use for all manner of purposes. Topcliffe 
laughed contemptuously. “Of course,” he said in 
his sneering way, “we understand this ladder near- 
ly 50 foot long, was wanted last night to gather the 
priest off the dwarf pear trees yonder, that are 
now just in blossom! May I have the pleasure, 
Miss Bellamy, of conducting you to the spot where 
that ladder was planted two or three hours ago ? 
Let me see, which gable window was it? Ah, I 
see. Allow me.” 

He advanced towards me with a smile ; I put 
his proffered arm aside indignantly, whereat he 
only laughed, and said I was really quite as ami- 
able as my sister ; but never fear, he would yet 
devise the means to cure us of our uppish ness. 

When we got to the place beneath the window, 
he triumphantly pointed out the holes in the 
ground made by the foot of the ladder, asking me 
if I could still persist in my denial ! I answered 
nothing. Then he looked at a bed of tulips that 
was trampled down, and in which several flowers 


80 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

were broken off. “What a pity/ 7 he said sarcas- 
tically. “Do you not think, Miss Bellamy, that 
people should be rather more careful *? The ladder 
might have been stood on the gravel path, then 
your flowers would not have been spoilt. Besides 
the footprints would not have been seen, as they 
are so very plainly in the soft mould. Just look 
here — these huge marks must have been made by 
your worthy uncle 7 s great boots ; those there are 
the traces of the Jesuit, on whose head — mark 
you — a prize of £100 is set. Let me take the exact 
measure, one never knows how it may come in 
useful. Well, the good man does not appear to 
wear shoes of the latest fashion. Now here are 
some of a very different style and shape ; one of 
the young gentlemen staying in your house must 
have been here, or some other abettor of the priest ; 
these ministers of Baal never lack a gallowsbird in 
their train. But how do these pretty little foot- 
prints come here % They are almost too small to 
be yours, my young lady, nor are they quite like a 
gentlewoman 7 s shoe. Oh! I have it! they belong 
to the dear little lad who whispered in his sister’s 
ear so sweetly last night on the stair : It is all 
right. True enough, it is all right, I can sa}^ that 
now; for since I have got these threads in my 
hand, I will not let them slip from my grasp, but 
out of them we will form a rope, a rope to fit the 
Jesuit’s neck. By my troth, here comes the little 
man himself, just as we were speaking of him!” 

As ill luck would have it, at that moment 
Uncle Bemy appeared round the corner of the 
house, holding the boy by the hand. I saw the 


THE AVONDERFUL FLOAVER OF AVOXINDON. 81 


exultant look Topcliffe gave them, and tried to give 
them a sign to warn them to beat a hasty retreat. 
But it was already too late. Topcliffe asked them 
quite civilly to come where we were standing ; as 
soon as they did so, he seized hold of Frith’s arm, 
and asked him Avliose were the footprints in that 
flower bed? The child looked at me with a frighten- 
ed expression in his blue eyes, but he answered 
sturdily: these were the footprints of a good many 
people. This reply cost him several hard cuffs 
from Topcliffe, who then lifted him up and stood 
him down in the flowerbed ; but Frith, guessing 
his design, defeated it by scraping the earth Avith 
his feet, so as to obliterate all traces of his having 
been there. This made Topcliffe very spiteful, he 
pulled the poor little fellow’s hair unmercifully. 

But one might go too far with Frith. He was a 
good, gentle child as long as he Avas treated kindly, 
but if he thought anyone was unjust to him, he 
could show himself a true Bellamy by his obsti- 
nacy, for we are known to come of a stubborn race. 
Frith set his teeth and looked at his tormentor 
with angry defiance, but he did not utter a Avord, 
even when Topcliffe boxed his ears so hard that 
the tears started to his eyes, saying: “None of 
your insolence for me, if you please! You little 
know me. I have taught many other birds to sing 
besides fledglings like you ! ” 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Master 
Topcliffe,” exclaimed Uncle Remy, “for striking a 
lad like that. I will not permit it.” “Who asks 
you for permission?” the scoundrel rejoined. 
Then calling one of his men, he bade him cut him 


82 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

a stout switch from a willow tree. When this was 
brought to him, he trimmed it with his dirk, and 
whirled it round twice or thrice in the air with a 
whistling sound ; then flourishing it over poor 
Frith’s head, he addressed him thus: “Now Mas- 
ter Frith, my name is Topcliffe, and you may 
perhaps have heard I have been the means of 
bringing many hundreds to the gallows, or what is 
worse, to the rack. I am not a man to be trifled 
wflth. Now listen to me: Last night that very 
ladder was brought here, and by it the Jesuit 
Edmund climbed up to the gable window yonder. 
I know very well that you, my young master, 
brought the Jesuit here, and you conducted him 
home again ; so you know now, where he is hid- 
den. Pay heed to what I say : I am going to count 
five and twenty, quite slowly ; and if by the time 
I have done, you do not tell me where the Jesuit 
has put himself, I will lay this switch about you 
so soundly that you will not know whether you 
stand on your head or your heels, and will be 
ready to tell me all I want to know. Lay the 
young gentleman on the garden seat, and hold him 
down; that is right. Now I am going to begin : 
one — two — 77 

“Master Topcliffe, what are you thinking of?” 
interposed Uncle Eemy. “Do you imagine that 
a child like that would be told where a Catholic 
priest is concealed ? 7 7 

“Five — six , 77 the man went on. 

“Never fear, Uncle Eemy, I will not let him 
know it if he should cut me to pieces . 77 

“There now, the young villain confesses he 
knows it ! Eight — nine . 77 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 83 


“Stop that! ” cried Uncle Eemy, “whatever I 
have to suffer for it. I will not stand by and see 
the boy flogged. You are exceeding your powers. 7 7 
So saying he wrested the switch out of Topcliffeks 
hand, broke it to pieces, and hung it on the ground. 

The tyrant shouted to his men to seize and 
bind Uncle Eemy, but he was a powerful man, and 
easily shook off the two who laid hands on him. 
Snatching a pike from a third, he swung it about 
him with such effect, that all his antagonists re- 
treated, their leader among them, and the two that 
were holding Frith down on the garden seat, let 
him go free. Quick as thought the child sprang 
to his feet, slipped between the legs of the men 
with astounding dexterity, and would have made 
good his escape, had not cousin Page most inoppor- 
tunely appeared on the scene with some armed 
retainers and thus stopped him in his flight. 

This cousin Page was my grandmother 7 s 
nephew, and like all the rest of our family, a 
staunch Catholic at heart, although he had con- 
formed to the new form of worship, in order to 
evade the exorbitant fines that were reducing all 
our Catholic families in turn to beggary. Alas ! 
it is through weakness such as his, that our beloved 
island has. been bereft of her choicest heirloom, 
the true Faith; because the greater number of the 
nobility and gentry for the sake of retaining their 
property, complied with the will of their ruler, in 
the conviction that better times must come, when 
they would again openly jHofess their ancient 
creed. Fools indeed were they, and forgetful of our 
Lord’s words: No servant can serve two masters; 


84 TIIE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

you cannot serve God and mammon. Thus all 
who would not forego mammon gradually lost the 
inestimable treasure of the Faith. 

Cousin Page came up puffing and red in the 
face like a turkey cock, for he was a corpulent 
man, and had -been walking quickly. As soon as 
he saw us he cried out: “Cousin Bellamy, cousin 
Mary, I have just heard that my cousin Bichard 
died last- night. I am sorry, heartily sorry for you 
both. He was a good man, but headstrong like 
all the rest of you, and by his culpable obstinacy 
he has ruined his fine estate. But what is up now ? 
By my troth, that is Master Topcliffe! I wish you 
good morning! Another domiciliary visit to my 
stubborn popish relations — eh 1 what are you 
after, my lad $ Stop him, men, stop him.” 

These last words were addressed to Frith, who 
begged to be released, or the wicked man would 
beat him to death. Our unhappy relative, whose 
dastardly conduct may God forgive, listened to 
Topcliffe, and brought the struggling boy back. 
As soon as he learnt the state of affairs, he said : 
“A nice story this, Cousin Bellamy! In defiance 
of law, Parliament, Privy Council, and the express 
will and pleasure of our gracious Queen, w r hom 
may God long preserve for England’s weal, you 
introduced a priest into the house and harboured 
him there ! And only the day before yesterday the 
Court of Justice at Westminster inflicted on our 
Cousin Robert for the very same offence no greater 
penalty than a . fine of £1,000 and eighteen month’s 
imprisonment! Do you not think that the learned 
members of the Privy Council, irritated by your 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 85 

continued obstinacy, and the repetition of your 
offence, after you having received such lenient 
treatment at their hands, will be disposed to punish 
you with the utmost rigor of the law? Suppose 
the statute Praemunire is put in force against 
Woxindon, and the whole estate with goods and 
chattels, moveable and immoveable property, is 
confiscated to the Crown or to Lord Burghley ! It 
is a good thing that I have to some extent provided 
against this. Come into the hall with me, for with 
Mr. Topcliffe’ s permission, I have an important 
communication to make to my Aunt Bellamy, and 
her children and grandchildren. As for the priest 
who is supposed to be hidden here, I shall, as 
beseems a loyal Englishman, offer no opposition to 
Mr. Topcliffe, on the contrary, I shall render her 
Majesty’s servants all the assistance in my power, 
that law and justice may take its course.” 

This expression of my cousin’s intentions was 
not very pleasant for us. I must, however, say this 
for him, that he seemed thoroughly ashamed of 
himself, and did not venture to look us in, the face. 
We followed him to the hall without a word, for 
we thought this the most dignified course, we could 
pursue; meanwhile, Topcliffe had bound Frith's 
hands together with a cord which he fastened to 
his own belt. 

On entering the hall, Cousin Page saluted his 
aunt, our dear grandmother, muttering a few words 
of sympathy for the loss of her oldest son, then 
clearing his throat, Avitli some embarrassment of 
manner he began to say that, since he knew his 
deceased cousin to suffer from heart complaint, he 


86 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

had foreseen that he could not live long, and there- 
fore, out of his warm affection and care for our 
family — ill required though it was on our part — he 
had taken measures before the Privy Council to 
prevent Woxindon from being lost to ns, or at any 
rate from going out of the family. He had at last 
been successful, he said, not without the cost of 
much trouble to himself, in procuring a document 
which he had with him, to which was affixed the 
signature of the Lord Treasurer and the Secretary 
of State, and the royal seal. Drawing from his 
breast pocket a roll of parchment, carefully 
wrapped in silk, he opened it, reverently kissed 
the Queen’s effigy upon the great seal, and read 
the contents aloud to ns. I cannot of course recall 
the wording of the document, but I know the gist of 
the longwinded periods and elaborate phraseology 
was this: That the Queen, in case of our father’s 
premature decease, created her beloved and faithful 
servant Sir Richard Page, guardian of Woxindon, 
with full und unlimited powers over the estate, in 
consideration of the fact that our uncles Bartholo- 
mew, Robert and Jeremy were notorious and stub- 
born Papists. Moreover, on account of his loyal 
sentiments, the said Sir Richard Page was to 
become the sole and entire proprietor of the estate 
of Woxindon, unless within six months from the 
present date, we should determine to abjure the 
abomination of the Papacy, and from thenceforward 
diligently attend divine service established by the 
Queen, the rightful head of the English Church. 

When my cousin had finished reading this 
document, there was perfect silence for a few 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 87 


moments. Then grandmother stood up and said, 
with a look that I shall never forget, but with per- 
fect calmness of manner: “Nephew, I pray God 
that on the day when you must abandon all your 
earthly possessions, and must appear, as my son 
Eichard did last night, before the judgment seat, 
that your treachery, and the document you have 
just read to us, the price of your treachery, may 
not occasion you bitter remorse . 77 

Thereupon Page declared he had not acted in 
this way for his own sake, but for ours ; it depended 
upon us alone whether we kept Woxindon or no. 
For the matter of that however, almost every stone 
on the estate was mortgaged to him, in consequence 
of our wilfulness, and the enormous fines our late 
father had incurred. We had always set his 
warnings at naught, and always, as at the present 
time, instead of thanking him as he deserved, 
rewarded him with the blackest ingratitude. 

What the man said made little or no impres- 
sion upon our guests and such of the servants who 
were present, let alone ourselves : indeed we felt 
heartily ashamed of him. He had to content him- 
self with the congratulations he received from 
Topcliffe, who wished him joy and shook him 
warmly by the hand. When Babington saw him 
take the blood-stained hand of the pursuivant, he 
could not restrain his indignation and disgust ; no 
man of honour, he said, would henceforth call Sir 
Richard Page his friend, since he had lowered 
himself by this familiarity with the hangman 7 s 
accomplice. 

At this Topcliffe began to storm and bluster, 


88 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

threatening us with dire revenge. Babington bold- 
ly replied that he should be happy to answer all 
his accusations on the morrow in the presence of 
Sir Francis Walsingham, to whom he had letters 
of introduction from high quarters. He was then 
only waiting to know what were Topcliffe’ s inten- 
tions in regard to Miss Bellamy and her little 
brother, in order that he might report this abuse 
of his powers to the Secretary of State, for he did 
not believe him authorized to arrest women and 
children. 

“I shall most certainly take both of them with 
me to London as prisoners.” Topcliffe rejoined with 
a diabolical laugh, “if they do not forthwith reveal 
the hiding place of the accursed Priest of Belial.” 

Anne immediately said that she really did not 
know it, and would not tell if she did ; while Frith 
declared he knew it, and nothing would induce 
him to betray it, whatever might be done to him. 

Then, though it went hard with me to do so, 
I appealed to Richard Page, and besought him, in 
his official capacity as mayor, himself to take Anne 
under arrest, rather than let Topcliffe drag her 
away to one of the horrible London prisons. But 
like the craven coward that he was, he answered 
in the words of Pontius Pilate, that he washed his 
hands of the matter, and would leave justice to 
take its course. 

Almost immediately after Topcliffe gave the 
signal for departure to his men. He scarcely al- 
lowed Anne, who was crying with grief and rage, 
and Frith, who kept a brave countenance, time to 
bid grandmother and me good-bye, before he hur- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 89 


ried them away in the midst of his guard, the 
servants following them with sobs and tears. Poor 
old Bosgrave was almost beside herself for sorrow, 
at seeing her dear children driven out of the house 
where their father lay dead. 

That was a terrible day, indeed! I cried till I 
could cry no longer, but nothing was of any use. 
I really do not remember what else happened that 
day. I only know that the six young gentlemen 
who were with us took their leave, for they said they 
would accept no hospitality from Page, and that 
Windsor, who had been of such great assistance to 
us during the preceding night, said all he could 
think of to console me, and at parting asked if he 
might be permitted to call and ask for us. I can- 
not recollect what I answered him, for I felt quite 
bewildered with tears and anguish of lieart. 


CHAPTER VII. 


The six J-oung gentlemen receive a timely warning, and the 
gentle reader learns something more concerning their 
projects. 

Hitherto I liave left the part of narrator to my 
wife, although from the commencement of the third 
chapter, from the time that is of my arrival at 
Woxindon, I was myself in a position to relate a 
great part, or indeed all, of what occurred. How- 
ever she told her tale so faithfully and SQwell, that 
I was fain to let her continue speaking ; and I shall 
be content if I can give equal satisfaction to the 
reader, now that it is my turn to record, events of 
which she was not a witness. On this point at any 
rate my narrative will bear comparison with hers ; 
in the perfect truth and accuracy of every state- 
ment. One thing I must add to what she has 
already said : 1 remember quite well, what my dear 
Mary professes to have forgotten, that she gave me 
permission most graciously, to visit Woxindon 
again, nay even smiled through her tears as she 
did so, as a gleam of sunshine sometimes breaks 
out through a shower. 

As we were riding through St. John’s Wood, 
when we had got about half way to London, we 
overtook Topcliffe and his troop, with their two 
unfortunate prisoners. Babington and some others 
who were with me would liked to have drawn 
their swords and set them free, and bring Topcliffe 
to the nearest tree, a fate he richly deserved. But 
Tichbourne and I prevailed upon our companions 
( 90 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 91 


not to engage in such a desperate attempt, which 
would have brought us all to the gallows and done 
no good. So we rode on our way, only as we 
passed, bidding the young lady and the boy keep 
good heart, for we would see that they were soon set 
at liberty. 

Our way led through St. Giles-in-the- Fields, 
where in earlier times a small church had been 
erected in honour of the saint, a favourite resort of 
pious Londoners. Now in these changed times no 
pilgrim wended his way thither. But though the 
sanctuary was neglected, the stately hostelry of the 
Blue Boar , standing in the midst of green meadows,- 
shaded by ancient oaks, was still much frequented. 
This inn was famous not only for its good beer and 
fiery wines, but also as a place where arrangements 
were made for several of the national" sports, such 
as rackets, foot-ball, races, archery, shooting, and 
above all, cock-fighting, in which hundreds of 
pounds were lost and won in the course of a year. 
The host himself kept about a dozen game-cocks of 
a special breed, one of which he would pit against 
any cock brought to the house. We six young fel- 
lows were well known guests at this hostelry, for 
we had almost all well filled purses, and did not 
look twice at a crown piece or a rose-noble. Ever 
since the previous autumn it had been our habit to 
meet one evening every week at the Blue Boar , 
where we engaged a room in the upper story, 
whereto no one else was admitted. Very weighty 
matters were discussed between those four walls ! 

As we were passing through St. Giles on our 
way to London, Babington, who, contrary to his 


92 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

custom, had been the most silent of onr party, sud- 
denly pulled up, and said : “Let us turn in at the 
Blue Boar . I have a proposal to make to you fel- 
lows after supper .’ 7 To this we agreed, and a few 
moments later we dismounted at the door under 
the spreading oaks. Little did we then suspect 
what scenes those oaks, not as yet in their vernal 
garb, would witness, before the tender green leaves, 
just ready to burst their buds under the influence 
of the April sunshine, would in their turn be sere 
and yellow ! 

Before proceeding further with my narrative, 
I must go back a space, and speak of the consulta- 
tions that were held and the resolutions taken in 
the aforesaid upper room in the Blue Boar in the 
course of the last winter. My friendship with 
Babington and the others of our party dated from 
the Oxford days ; during my absence in Italy they 
had formed a sort of association, into which I was 
instantly admitted on my return to London last 
autumn. The principal object of our meetings 
was, in addition to the services which we as good 
Catholics could render to our clergy, the enjoyment 
of pleasant intercourse with congenial companions, 
and the innocent amusements suited to our age and 
position, such as rowing, riding, hunting, tennis 
and archery. Now we should have proved our- 
selves very pool Catholics, if the subject of our 
confidential conversations had not often been the 
lamentable status of the Church in England, the 
terrible persecution which brought priests to the 
block and the laity to beggary. We used to debate 
whether there was no means of at least alleviating 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 93 

such deplorable misery ; the only hope of better 
things, the only star in this stygian gloom, was as 
far as we could see, the imprisoned Queen Mary 
Stuart, the legitimate heir to the English throne. 
Neither her troubles and sufferings in Scotland, 
nor her captivity of eighteen years duration in 
England, had induced her to swerve one hairs - 
breadth from her fidelity to the Catholic Church. 
Would that she were on the throne which was now 
unworthily filled by the daughter of Henry VIII. 
and Anne Boleyn! Thoughts such as these occu- 
pied our minds, and gradually took the shape of a 
well considered plan. 

On the evening of the Epiphany 1586, we were 
holding one of our pleasant meetings in the parlour 
of the Blue Boar . Babington had ordered a large 
cake to be baked with a bean in it, after the French 
fashion; whoever found the bean in his portion 
was king for the evening. A good supply of wine 
from the sunny vineyards of Spain was on the 
table; when the cake was cut, the bean fell to 
Babington ? s lot, so we paid him homage amid 
laughter and merry jests. 

“We have got a new king for the nonce, ” 
cried I, “would that we had a new queen too.” 

“You have forestalled me in what I was going 
to say,” answered Babington; “God knows, Eliz- 
abeth is no more a true queen than I am a true 
king.” 

Then we grew grave, and Tichbourne exclaim- 
ed : 4 ‘Take care what you say, the host might over- 
hear you. An expression like that would count as 
high treason, and I for one have no wish to feel 


94 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the hangman’s rope round my neck, for not haying 
given information of a rash word spoken by my 
friends ! 7 7 

“What I said is quite true , 77 Babington re- 
joined. “Elizabeth’s birth gives her no claim to 
the crown, and besides this, she has been formally 
deposed by the Pope, so that we. owe her no alle- 
giance. In fact the bull of Pius Y. originally declared 
those persons to be excommunicated who declared 
her to be the rightful Queen, and obeyed her as 
such. I am quite aware that in consequence of the 
representations made to him by the Jesuits, the 
present occupant of St. Peter’s Chair has modified 
this statement ; but the bill of deposition was not 
revoked, and if circumstances permitted, we should 
still have the right to obey our Holy Father’s com- 
mand.” 

“Yes, if circumstances permitted !” interposed 
Barnewell. # “But we know very well they do not 
permit it. And therefore a truce to these weari- 
some speeches on politics, that spoil our merry- 
making. Pass the bottle, Babington.” 

“These speeches, as you please to term a few 
sensible remarks, might lead to something prac- 
tical, if there were a dozen young men like minded 
with ourselves,” remarked Salisbury. 

“If we six only had sufficient pluck,” said 
Babington, “we might with one bold stroke save 
England from being lost to the Faith, and obtain 
eternal renown for ourselves.” 

“I devoutly hope you mean nothing of this 
sort for Elizabeth,” said Tichbourne with a sig- 
nificant gesture. “For if you do, I shall leave the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 95 


room forthwith, I will not be accessory to any 
such crime, I will not even hear it spoken of . 77 

“ Listen to my proposal , 57 rejoined Babington, 
“before you fire up in that way. As you know, 
towards the close of the year I went down to my 
place in Derbyshire. On the morning of Christ- 
mas Eve my steward came to me quite breath- 
less, with the intelligence that Mary Stuart was 
to be removed from Tutbury, where under the 
charge of Sir Ealph Sadler, she had been com- 
paritively well treated, to Chartley, near Barton. 
The Privy Council had appointed Sir Amias Pau- 
let, a rabid Puritan, to be her jailer, and it was 
whispered abroad, that it would go ill with her 
there, in fact that an end would soon be put to 
her days. I must make haste, he said, if I 
wanted to see her; about noon she was expected 
to pass through Staleycross. I mounted my horse 
at once and rode the few miles to the spot. All 
the neighbourhood was on foot; hundreds of 
people were standing in groups on the highroad, 
in the driving snow, to see the captive Queen 
pass by, so greatly was she beloved for her kind- 
ness to the poor, and venerated on account of 
her angelic patience. At last the mournful pro- 
cession came by ; it consisted of fifty troopers in 
whose midst rode Mary Stuart with Sir Ealph at 
her side, and her men and maidservants close 
behind. Just as she reached the cross, a gleam 
of wintry sunshine broke through the clouds, and 
rested on the group of riders. The Queen was 
dressed in black, and seemed scarcely able to sit 
upright in her saddle, yet she threw back her long 


9(i THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

veil and smiled kindly at the country people, many 
of whom were weeping. How immensely she had 
altered in appearance, since I was her page at 
Sheffield Castle ! She was then a picture of beauty, 
the loveliest woman I had ever seen ; now her long 
captivity had greatly aged her, she looked like a 
withered and faded flower. I heard a burly peasant 
behind me say: “Ay, poor soul, she wont last 
much longer. ” And another answered: “What 
would you have, gossip, buried alive as she has 
been all these years! And people do say, she will 
have it much worse now than in that cold damp 
hole, Cliartley. Sir A mias Paulet is not the one to 
make any man’s bed softer. I would not give a 
dog to the care of such as he. But last Sunday I 
heard the new preacher in the ‘May flower’ say that 
was just what the Privy Council wanted with this 
Moabitess — so he called her — that she should be 
done to death at last. For as long as this Stuart is 
alive, the Papists will have ground for hope, and 
the new religion as well as the Queen will be in 
danger.” 

Such were the opinions expressed by the peas- 
ants, while Mary Stuart rode by, bowing graciously 
in acknowledgement of the greetings she received. 
I said to myself : These rustics are perfectly right ! 
That is exactly what Burghley and Walsingham 
are aiming at, the death of our rightful sovereign ! 
It is true that while she lives, there is still some 
chance for us. Then I thought, what cowards we 
Catholics are ! Are there really not half-a-dozen 
men to be found amongst us ready to risk their 
lives for the life of this royal princess, on whom 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 97 


our last hope rests ! Then I remembered you, 
Brothers, and I determined to propose to you that 
together we should attempt, ay and accomplish 
also, this noble, this truly chivalrous deed. What 
say you! Will you or will you not? And as sure 
as I am a living man, if your courage fails you, I 
have sworn alone and singlehanded to rescue the 
illustrious Mary Stuart from the men who are mur- 
dering her by inches ! 7 7 

Babington spoke with such feeling and anima- 
tion, that he awoke in us the same enthusiasm. 
All who were present sprang to their feet, and 
grasping his hand, shouted: “We will join you ! 
Hurrah for Mary Stuart! We will risk life and 
lands to set her free!” 

And so it came to pass that on that Feast of the 
Epiphany the generous resolve was taken unani- 
mously that we six young noblemen under Babing- 
ton 7 s leadership, should undertake at all risks to 
liberate the Queen of Scots from prison and from 
the hands of her enemies. We were stimulated to 
do this, it must be acknowledged, to a great ex- 
tent, by the bond lately formed under Leicester for 
the defence of Elizabeth, who certainly stood far 
less in need of protection than her unhappy rival. 

From that day forth our confabulations, when 
we met at the Blue Boar , were for the most part 
about the means of carrying out our project. The 
chief difficulty was this : If the prisoner were set 
free, where could a place of safety be found for her! 
At any rate, it must be abroad, therefore in March 
Babington went to Paris, to ask counsel on this 
point of some of Mary Stuart 7 s best friends, who 


98 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

were then residing there ; the Archbishop of Glas- 
gow, Mendoza, the former Spanish Ambassador, 
Morgan, and others. The universal opinion was 
that her place of refuge must be in France; but 
they all begged him, while they commended his- 
scheme, to defer the execution of it for a time, 
since it must be carried out in concert with an- 
other scheme, which they were elaborating, and of 
which they hoped shortly to give us the details. 

In the week after Easter Babington returned 
and reported to us what had been said. It was 
agreed amongst us, that before any steps were 
taken, we would each one of us set his affairs in 
order, both temporal and spiritual, since on so 
hazardous an enterprise as that whereto we were 
pledged, we held our lives in our hand. We also 
determined to be present in a body at the execu- 
tion of the two priests, which was already spoken 
of as certain, in order to see with our own eyes 
the fate possibly in store for us. It was for the 
purpose of making our Easter confession to Fa- 
ther Weston that we repaired to Woxindon. The 
circumstances that prevented us from doing so 
have already been told by my wife. This brings 
me back to that evening in April, when we dis- 
mounted at the door of the Blue Boar in St. Giles. 

Mine host came out to receive us, bowing and 
smirking, while the ostler took our horses away to 
the stable. “ Fie, gentlemen , 97 he said, u what long 
faces I see on this lovely Spring day ! Please to 
walk up to your room upstairs and drown your 
cares in a goblet of good wine. I have just received 
a new consignment from the Rhine ; Deidesheimer, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 99 


like molten gold, soft to the palate, but fire in 
your veins. Or would some old Bourdeaux please 
you? If you ask my advice, sirs, I think there is 
nothing comes up to a bowl of stiff, well brewed 
punch.” 

Rambling on after this fashion, the host led 
the way into the house. Babington, the leader of 
the little band, cut him short, bidding him to send 
up the best supper he could provide, for we had 
not yet dined ; after that we would do honour to 
his choice wines. 

The room in which we found ourselves was 
not very spacious, but pleasant and scrupulously 
cleaR. The two windows looked out upon the 
green, with the oak trees ; the jonly ornament on 
the walls was a pen-and-ink drawing by Tick- 
bourne, which consisted of our six heads, surround- 
ed by wreaths of laurel. As likenesses, they were 
not at all bad, for nature had gifted Ticlibourne 
with talent for all the fine arts. I can see that ill- 
fated picture now; Anthony Babington, our chief, 
occupied the centre, with his handsome, daring 
face, not exempt from a touch of vanity. The 
other five were arranged around him; Tichbourne’s 
portrait was next to me, for we were united by a 
similarity of tastes as well as by mutual affection. 
Beneath the whole Babington had inscribed the 
lines : 

* 

Hi mihi sunt comites , quos ipsa pericula j ungun t. 

These are my comrades, united to me by a com- 
mon danger. 

We shall presently see that this verse was not 
chosen at random. 


100 THE ‘WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

We were soon seated round the oaken table, 
and did full justice to the excellent viands placed 
before us. When my friend Tichbourne had said 
grace, (his habit of always performing this duty led 
us jestingly to call him ‘the parson 7 ) and the cloth 
had been removed, the host himself brought in a 
round, highly ornamented flagon, which he set up- 
on the table. He then took out of a cupboard six 
silver goblets, and filled them one after another, 
ending with a glass for himself. “Your health, 
good sirs , 77 he said. “May you experience the 
truth of what Holy Scripture says, that wine cheers 
the heart of man. For never have I seen you 
merry fellows so silent over your meal as to-day. 
Where in the world does the shoe pinch with you? 
Not that old Clayton wants to ferret out your 
secrets, but we all know that even rich young 
gentlemen like you may happen to find their purses 
tight, and if so, the host of the Blue Boar would 
think nothing of a few paltry pounds, to which the 
gentlemen would be welcome merely on their word 
of honour, without a written acknowledgment . 77 

We thanked the good man for his generous 
offer, and assured him the state of our funds was 
not such as to cause us disquietude. He then 
looked at us in turn with as searching a glance as 
he could throw in his shrewd little eyes, half- 
buried as they were in his fat cheeks, and clearing 
his throat, began: “Well, gentlemen, I humbly 
ask your pardon. I am right glad that your purses 
are full, and yet, by Jove, I am half sorry, too. 
For, excuse me, but I am sure something has gone 
wrong with the gentlemen, and I could almost wish 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 101 


it were money matters , as that malady could then 
be easily cured. What may it be after all? If 
I saw only one of you hang his head, I should 
conclude he was in love and trouble myself no 
more about it; but now you all of you look so 
glum, even the worthy Mr. Tichbourne, who has 
got a sweet young wife, God bless her. It oc- 
curred to me — I must again beg your pardon, 
but you know I mean well, and I must speak 
out — it occurred to me that it might be some- 
thing connected with the rumours which reached 
my ears to day. Yes, good sirs, believe me, one 
cannot be too careful in these troublesome times, 
when the air is thick with conspiracies and plots*, 
in Germany, Italy, France, the Netherlands, not 
to speak of Scotland, which bubbles over like a 
witches kettle! And I must tell you the fact of 
your having hired this room in my house for 
yourselves alone, and for some months past, hold- 
ing a meeting here every week with closed doors, 
has set idle tongues wagging. People say some- 
thing is being plotted and planned here, for as 
much as every one knows, you, one and all, pro- 
fess the old Roman faith. I should have paid 
no heed to this idle gossip, although I should have 
no objection to have you Catholics served at least 
in the same way we were served under ‘Bloody 
Mary’, when there were plenty of underhand goings 
on. But yesterday one of Walsingham’s creatures, 
one of his craftiest spies, I know the fox, slipped 
into this room. I happened to come up just as he 
was writing down your names and the piece of 
Latin from the picture over the chimney piece 


102 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

there. I need hardly say I sent him about his 
business pretty quickly, and dismissed the girl 
that same day, to whom he was paying court, for 
the sake of worming things out on the sly ; for I 
loathe from the bottom of my soul these sneaks 
and tale-bearers. Now, good sirs,'! do not for a 
moment credit you with seriously cherishing any 
design against crown or country, for no man in his 
senses would look for conspirators among jolly 
fellows like you, of whom, alas! merry England 
cannot now boast as many as in days of yore. With 
your permission however, gentlemen, let me re- 
mind you that the laws now-a-days are very sharp 
and severe, and the Lord Chief Justice would 
think nothing of twisting an ugly rope out of harm- 
less hempen strands. Of course I should get into 
trouble too, but I will not speak of that. To make 
an end : I thought it my duty to warn you, that 
Walsingham certainly has his eye on you, and for 
your own sakes I should much rather you should 
observe less secrecy about your meetings here. 
Again craving your indulgence, gentlemen, in all 
submission, I beg you to think over my well meant 
warning. ” 

So saying, he tossed off his glass, made the 
nearest approach to a bow that his obesity per- 
mitted, and left the apartment. When the door 
had closed behind him, we sat for a moment in 
silence, looking inquiringly at one another. Then 
Babington struck the table with his fist, and said, 
with a forced laugh : “Well, good friends, what of 
this? We might have known that sooner or later 
Walsingham would get wind of our enterprise, but 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 103 


we have no reason to think that lie is aware of its 
object.” 

“ Probably not, ” observed Henry Donne, dryly, 
but the hounds are on the scent. ” 

“And before they run us to earth, we shall 
have reached our goal : the illustrious Queen, the 
fairest and noblest of her race, born to inherit the 
crown of England, will be free, will have fled with 
us to the continent, and our names will be inscribed 
on* our country’s annals in letters of gold.” 

“Or we shall be branded as traitors, and our 
heads impaled on stakes on London Bridge,” 
Donne quietly replied to Babington’s enthusiastic 
outburst. 

“What?” continued the latter, “is the first 
semblance of difficulty to overthrow the plan we 
have pledged ourselves to, as a breath overturns a 
child’s house of cards? Did we not take into ac- 
cbunt the chance of failure, when we resolved to 
liberate the captive queen? He who would win 
fame’s highest prize, must be prepared to hold his 
life cheap.” 

“Far be it from me to risk my life, and what 
is dearer to me, a time-honoured name and the hap- 
piness of my young wife, for the sake of earthly 
% glory,” Tichbourne replied with great gravity. “I 
counted it my duty to pledge myself for the libera- 
tion of the Queen of Scots, hoping that this might 
be the means of upholding the Catholic Faith in 
England. That was my only motive in joining 
this chivalrous enterprise, and I am full^ resolved 
to keep my word if, as we have stipulated, the 
plan appears feasible. For in so important a 


104 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

matter we must not trust to chance. That would not 
be courage, but simple madness, and the failure of 
the undertaking would not only be sure perdition 
for ourselves, but the prisoner herself would be 
involved in our fate.” 

We all declared that we agreed with him, and 
only on this condition were we prepared to venture 
our lives and our property in the attempt to which 
we had pledged ourselves. 

Babington then explained how amongst his 
friends and tenants at Chartley, he would have no 
difficulty in raising a body of 200 men to liberate 
the prisoner by force of arms, if need be. 

“And if the plan succeeds,” asked Salisbury, 
“how are we to get the queen over to France?” 

“There are two ways open to us,” Babington 
replied. “One is through Lincolnshire by the 
Wash, where in the little port of Fossdyke I have 
made the acquaintance of an old fisherman, wtfo 
would let me have his smack for £100. Of course 
I did not tell him what I wanted it for, he thinks 
it is a love affair. Or perhaps it would be safer to 
go westward to the Mersey, or through Lancashire 
to Forrnby or Southport ; for Catholics are a ma- 
jority in Lancashire, and if we were pursued, we 
could reckon upon help there. Nothing will be f 
easier than to find the owner of some vessel who 
is willing to let us have his bark and his services 
for a good price, to sail southwards round the 
English coast, or northwards round the Scottish 
coast, and land us on the shores of Normandy. 

The distance to the sea is much the same whether 
we go to Lincolnshire or Lancashire, about sixty 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 105 

miles, and could be covered in 10 or 12 hours, 
provided fresh horses are ready at three halting 
places at least. ” 

After a long consultation as to which route 
should be adopted, we finally decided upon going 
through Lancashire. It was longer, but the one 
which we should be less likely to be thought to 
have taken. Only two of us were to escort the 
queen, while the others were to fly in the oppo- 
site direction, in the hope of putting our pur- 
suers on a false scent. It remained to determine 
who was to accompany the queen besides Babing- 
ton, to whom, as our leader, the place of honour 
was naturally given. For this we cast lots; the 
lot fell upon Salisbury, an ardent, resolute young 
fellow. He promised at once to execute the in- 
structions : namely, to acquaint himself thorough- 
ly with the road from Chartley to Formby, and 
ascertain at what places a relay of horses could 
be obtained. Barnewell was to go with him, for 
he had friends residing on the Lancashire coast, 
and knew a good Catholic skipper, who had al- 
ready smuggled several priests out of the country, 
and might be induced to lend his services in 
this instance. 

So far all had, so we imagined, been 
wisely considered. It was, of course, impossible 
to fix the time w lien the venture w r as to be made, 
as it was necessary to await a favourable oppor- 
tunity. Still we w 7 ere all of opinion that it must 
not be indefinitely postponed, because on the one 
hand the queen w r as now in such evil care, and 
on the other, Walsingham would be certain to 


106 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

put a spoke into our wheel, if it were true that 
he had got wind of our project. Whether this really 
were so Babington undertook to discover on the 
morrow, when he was going to see him about 
Topcliffe’s behaviour at Woxindon, as well as to 
speak on behalf of the two prisoners. We warned 
him to be on his guard, for Walsingham was 
known to be the most crafty and unscrupulous 
politician to be found not only in England, but 
in Europe. He said there was no fear that he 
would let himself be hoodwinked, and-when I 
repeated my caution, he told me I had better go 
with him. This, at the wish of the others, I 
consented to do. 

Now Tich bourne suggested another and a no 
less important question: Were we to liberate the 
queen without having previously acquainted her 
with our design, almost, in fact, by force? Would 
it not be better to communicate our plan to her, 
and ask whether she gave her consent, and would 
avail herself of our assistance in the hazardous 
attempt? At first we could not agree on this 
point, there was so much to be said on both sides. 
At last, after a lengthy debate, we concluded that 
it was perfectly permissible to carry her off, ap- 
parently by force, out of the hands of her gaoler, 
since we might take her permission for granted, 
provided every arrangement was duly made, and 
success appeared at least morally certain. Indeed, 
it seemed as if in this case the wisest plan by far 
would be, not to breathe a word of it to the prisoner, 
because then there would be less chance of discov- 
ery, and if the attempt miscarry, she would be able 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 107 


to prove that she had not been privy to it. Yet, 
as in spite of the most careful preparations the en- 
terprise must be attended with great risk, it was 
thought advisable on the whole, that Babington 
should let the queen know, in a general way, that 
a number of Catholic noblemen had pledged them- 
selves to set her at liberty, and only waited for a 
sign of consent from her, to venture their lives in 
her cause. But before giving a hint of this kind to 
the captive, we advised him to exchange one or 
two letters on indifferent subjects with her secre- 
tary, Nau, in order to test the means of getting 
letters in safety into the castle. Then he might 
ask Nau to tell him of a cipher, to be employed for 
communications of greater importance, but on no 
account should he give him more information than 
was absolutely necessary, or mention any persons 
by name. 

We thought now every point in our scheme 
had been fully deliberated upon, and every pre- 
caution taken, so that even the most prudent 
amongst us, my friend Tichbourne, had nothing to 
urge against it. Meanwhile the flagon had gone round 
pretty freely, and its contents were at a low ebb. 
Babington proposed that we should have a glass or 
two of the stronger vintage of the South, to keep 
up our courage, and fortify us for our ride home 
through the chilly night air. So he called to the 
host to bring us interioris notae Falernum , that is to 
say his choicest wine ; and old Clayton was not 
slow in making his appearance anew, bringing gob- 
lets of the fine Venetian glass with rings then in fash- 
ion, which sounded almost like bells as they jingled, 


108 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

whilst the dusty cobweb covered bottles were be- 
ing uncorked. Babington took the opportunity of 
thanking Clayton for the information he had given 
us, telling him that we had determined to explain 
all about our meetings to Walsingham the very 
next day, and tell him the meaning of the Latin 
lines beneath the portraits, which the old man 
regarded as of specially sinister import. 

Our good host seemed well pleased at hearing 
this: “I crave your pardon once more, gentle- 
men,” he said, “for the liberty I am taking, but I 
must say you are doing the right thing. Always 
straightforward and open, that is the good old 
English way, and none of the crooked ways and 
doubledealing of later times. Do you go and say 
thus to the honourable Secretary of State: We are 
half-a-dozen English noblemen who have joined 
together to bring back some of the old jollity in 
these sullen times. We ride, and row, and play 
sports and drink together ; you tell him that ; and 
tell him too that if that is a conspiracy, then you 
are conspirators, and old Clayton of the Blue Boar 
at St. Giles-in-the-fields, who always sets the best 
liquor before his guests, not the doctored stuff for 
which London folk pay good gold — old Clayton is 
our leader and the arch-conspirator. And say if 
the Lord Secretary of State, and the worshipful 
lords of the Privy Council will honour him with a 
visit, they shall learn all the details of this formid- 
able conspiracy over a bottle of this old wine, and 
see all that is to be seen visum repertum , as one may 
say, with their own eyes. Ha, ha, ha! all in good 
part, gentlemen . * ? 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWEK OF WOXINDON. 109 


Thereupon Clayton quitted the apartment, whilst 
we under the exhilerating influence of his excellent 
wine, proceeded to discuss another and a more 
momentous matter, of which the reader shall hear 
in the next chapter. 



CHAPTER VIII. 


Babington brings a dangerous subject on the tapis; a final con- 
clusion is arrived at, and I walk home with Tichbourne. 

The old Roman poets, as is well known, used 
to sing the power of wine to give courage and 
resolution to the timid and wavering, so that they 
feared neither the wrath of kings nor the deadly 
weapons of their warriors. Perhaps it was the 
remembrance of Horace’s lines, Tu spem reducis 
mentibus anxiis etc ., which we read together at 
Oxford, that led Babington, seeing that we received 
his proposals with cautious reserve, to call for the 
strong w r ine of the sunny south before making 
further disclosures to us. Accordingly not until 
the bottle had been passed around once or twice, 
and our laughter and merry talk showed that the 
generous liquor had warmed our blood, did he en- 
ter upon a topic of greater magnitude and greater 
peril. He did not communicate all he had to say 
at once, but told it us gradually. 

First of all, he told us that he had received 
tidings from Paris, from the Spanish ambassador 
‘ Mendoza, concerning the scheme which was to go 
hand in hand with ours, namely that Philip II. 
was at last about to make his long threatened 
descent upon England. Perhaps the sending of 
English troops to the Netherlands, or the attack 
of Sir Francis Drake iipon the town of Vigo in 
Galicia, and the presence of the English fleet 
among his West Indian possessions had roused 
( 110 ) • 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. Ill 


the monarch to take active measures. At any rate 
it was a matter of fact that the Prince of Parma 
had been asked whether he would undertake the 
invasion of England, and Alexander Farnese had 
declared his readiness to do so, provided the Span- 
ish fleet protected the army during its landing, 
and the king placed twenty thousand men under 
his orders. The Pope would support the enterprise 
with his authority and with money, since the 
object of it was to execute the Bull of Pius Y. to 
dethrone Elizabeth, that is, and reinstate the Cath- 
olic religion in England. That the throne would 
be ascended by the rightful heir, Mary Stuart, 
would follow as a matter of course. There was even 
a report that she would marry the Prince of Parma. 

It will readily be imagined, that these tidings 
came upon us like a thunderbolt. We all asked 
at once when and from whom the news had come, 
and why he had not told us sooner ? He replied 
that he had received them the day before yester- 
day, just as we were starting to ride to Tyburn, 
and as we made it our habit never to speak of such 
things on the highway, he had waited until we 
were all together this evening to communicate 
them to us. “And what will our duty be ,’ 7 he 
concluded, “if this really comes to pass, and the 
Prince of Parma lands an army on our shores '? 77 

“Our duty will be to defend our country , 77 
some of us replied. “The attack will not be 
directed against our country, but against Elizabeth, 
the illigitimaey of whose birth disqualifies her for 
wearing the crown, and against her bloodthirsty 
adherents, who for the space of twenty-eight years 


112 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

already have persecuted us Catholics in the cruel- 
est manner. Think what we have seen this very 
day, when a delicate young girl and an innocent 
child were dragged away to prison almost before 
their father’s breath was out of his body, and one 
more noble Catholic house succumbed beneath the 
blows of the persecutor. In ten, no five years, all 
our Catholic families will have shared the fate of 
our good friends at Woxindon; and future ages 
will ask, could not a handful of men be found 
among all the Catholic nobles of England who would 
dare a bold deed for their rights and their faith ? 

“Thousands of such men have been found, but 
what good has come of it $ ” Tichbourne answered. 
Remember the sad end of the Pilgrimage of Grace, 
under Henry VIII, and of Northumberland’s bold 
attempt in the winter of 1569, instigated by that 
well meant, but most unfortunate Bull of Pius V. 
Remember the executions of the following Christ- 
mas, when hundreds were delivered over to the 
headsman’s axe. I am sorely -afraid we shall have 
a repition of these horrors, if there is any truth in 
this report of Parma’s expedition against our land.” 

“And I hope,” retorted Babington, “that he 
will come, and with the edge of the sword put an 
end to all these preachers and their wretched fol- 
lowing, who have brought this misery upon Eng- 
land. And if he does come, surely it will be the 
duty of every Catholic noble, to be on his side.” 

“I do not see that, by any means,” exclaimed 
several of our number. “Well, quite apart from 
other weighty reasons, ” continued Babington, the 
Bull of Pope Pius would then come into force. 


THE "WONDERFUL FLOW ER OF WOXINDON. 113 


And in that case, I am not so sure that it would 
not be permissible for us to employ against Eliza- 
beth the same forcible measures that she and her 
Council make use of against Mary Stuart. Mind 
you, I am not hinting at regicide, I do not forget 
she is a Queen. 77 

At this we all spoke out, protesting loudly 
that anything of that sort was quite alien to our 
designs, and Tichbourne went so far as to' say if 
another word of the kind was said in his hearing, 
he should altogether withdraw from our associa- 
tion. “I am perfectly aware , 7 7 he said, “that 
Knox and Luther and others who hold their tenets, 
do not hesitate to justify the assassination of a 
ruler who stands in the way of the Gospel, and 
even designate such a crime as a meritorious work. 
But I also know that no good end could justify the 
use of means so reprehensible, so criminal, as the 
deliberate and wanton murder of any man, be he 
prince or subject . 77 

“I quite agree with you , 77 Babin gtOn answered 
that one must not do ill that good may come of it. 
B\$ I ask, is it doing wrong, to eliminate what is 
evil? For instance, if our friend Windsor here 
exercises his skill as a surgeon by amputating a 
gangrene limb, to save a man’s life, is that doing 
good or evil ? And what is this daughter of Anne 
Boleyn with all her ministers but a cancer eating 
out the life of England % 77 

“That is an argument that can be easily an- 
swered , 77 Tichbourne replied. The very same 
question was put to Father Crichton, and his 
rejoinder is well known, in fact Elizabeth herself 


114 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

had it printed and disseminated. 1 ) God does not 
as much regard whether what we do is good, as 
whether the reasons whereby we bring it about are 
good and lawful. ” 

“And to keej) to the instance you give,” I 
added, “it is by no means anybody and everybody 
who is allowed to amputate a gangrene limb, but 
only a practical surgeon, who has received his 
diploma from the faculty, and can do it with skill 
and address. An ignoramus would kill the patient 
instead of curing him, and would probably be 
charged with manslaughter for his pains.” 

We were all of one mind on this point and we 
told Babington if he said another word in favour 
of such dangerous propositions, we would give up 
the whole concern. He hastened to throw oil on 
the troubled waters, by assuring us he had not 
meant what he said, but only wanted to find out 
what we thought on the matter. 

Thus witho.ut a dissentient voice it was speci- 
fied that every thought of violence against Elizabeth 
must be excluded from our scheme. But in regard 
to Parma’s invasion we were not equally unani- 
mous. After much arguing pro and con, it was 
finally determined : 1) That it was not our duty to 
give information to the Government or in any 
other way take steps to hinder the project. 2) That 
it was necessary, when planning the liberation of 

2 ) See the letter of this Jesuit Father in the Life of 
Father Weston 1. c. p. 81. “Deus magis amare adverbia 
quam nomina. Quia in actionibus magis ei placent bene 
et legitime, quam bonum, ita ut nullum bonum liceat 
facere, nisi bene et legitime fieri possit.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 115 


the Queen, which was the one only aim of our 
association, to allow ourselves to be influenced by 
Parma’s movements, in order that we might work 
in unison with him. Consequently Babington must 
keep in communication with his friends in Paris, 
whilst the utmost caution must be observed, for 
were it discovered that we had abstained from 
giving information, we should assuredly suffer the 
penalty of traitors. 

At last Babington broke up our meeting, by a 
final toast to the success of our enterprise. We 
all emptied our glasses, shook hands heartily with 
one another, and separated, after Babington had 
made arrangements with me to accompany him to 
the Secretary of State on the morrow. 

Tichbourne and I left our horses at the Blue 
Boar , and sauntered together through the lonely 
meadows towards Westminster Abbey, which 
stands about a mile from the town on the banks of 
the Thames. Night had closed in, but the air was 
so mild one might have thought it was already 
summer ; and the soft south wind reminded me of 
Horace’s words : 

Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni. 

Behold the sharp winter gives way by a pleas- 
ing change to the spring and the south wind. 

The moon was rising in the star bespangled 
vault of heaven, and again I recalled the words of 
the same poet, the opening lines of one of his odes: 

Nox erat et coelo fulgebat luna sereno 
Inter nimira sidera . 

It was night : and the moon shone brightly in 
the calm heavens amid a host of lesser orbs. 


116 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Our conversation turned upon the stars, and 
upon the science of the astrologer, who proposes 
to read in the constellations the fate of individual 
men. I mentioned that this was impossible ; but 
my companion, who was naturally inclined to 
melancholy and had a fancy for occult science, had 
studied the subject, and was able to bring forward 
many instances in which a man’s horoscope had 
proved perfectly correct. Although he was far 
from having a pagan belief in fate, he thought it by 
no means improbable that God, who foresaw the 
future, allowed us for our warning to glean some 
knowledge of what lay before us from the stars. 

I argued cn the other hand that an intimation 
of the kind could be of no use to us if our fate were 
already fixed, and that God’s fore- knowledge could 
not interfere with our free will. He shook his 
head, and said that was true in a way, and that as 
a good Christian he was ready to say to his Maker : 
My lot is in Thy hand. Yet he could not rid him- 
self of the presentiment that an untimely and violent 
death awaited him. His father had had his horo- 
scope cast by a celebrated German astronomer and 
astrologer, and it was so unfortunate, that his 
father never would let him know what it was. 

I tried to divert him from these gloomy fore- 
bodings, and get him to talk about his sweet wife, 
and his pleasant home in Hampshire, where I had 
been his guest for a time shortly after his marriage. 
Ever since our Oxford days, when we were fellow 
students of Magdalen, we had been like brothers, 
and almost as inseparable as Orestes and Pylades 
of old. So he talked quite confidentially to me 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 117 


about bis domestic affairs, and said that as soon as 
a tedious law-suit with a protestant neighbour was 
ended, as he expected it would be before long*, and 
to his favour, he meant to leave London, and reside 
on his own estate. There he hoped to live and 
die in peace, far from all political intrigues and 
troubles. The tines for non-attendance at the 
Protestant worship would be heavy, but he must 
try and meet them. Then he tried to persuade me 
to settle in Hampshire with him, and give myself 
up to a life of study, for he did not think I should 
ever make much practical use of the knowledge of 
medicine I had acquired at Padua. And as for the 
professorship of Latin and Greek poetry at Oxford 
or Cambridge, the latest object of my aspirations, 
1 might as well renounce all idea of that, at once, 
since it was very certain that no Catholic had the 
slightest chance of obtaining any such post. 

Conversing on these and similar topics we 
reached the time-honoured Minster. The clear 
moonlight, shining full upon the windows, brought 
into relief every point of their delicate tracery, and 
lit up every pinacle of the splendid structure. As 
we passed onward to the river, I remarked : 
“Suppose the old monarchs who rest here in their 
stone coffins, and the pious abbots and monks, 
who in the silent cloisters await the angel’s last 
trump, could rise from their graves, what would 
they say to the lamentable changes Henry VIII., 
and the offspring of his sin have made in this and 
other sanctuaries of our land ! ’ ’ 

“The old monarchs would acknowledge that 
in some respects their acts had sown the seed which 


118 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

now bears such fatal fruit, and the old monks 
would exhort ns to stand firm in our faith, and by 
prayer and penance invoke God’s mercy upon our 
country, ” was Tichbourne’s reply. Then he added 
in a changed tone, as we walked slowly onward in 
the direction of Temple Bar, “Look here, Windsor, 
call me a monk or a friar preacher if you will, but 
I must say every day I like our friend Babington 
less and less. I am the first to acknowledge that 
his character is utterly different to my own. He is 
prompt and daring, joyous and merry, and withal 
a loyal Catholic, ready to sacrifice everything for 
his convictions ; but he carries his frivolity and 
love of pleasure to an excess. Others of us too 
are just as bad as he. For the execution of a pro- 
ject, such as we now have in hand, a leader of quite 
another stamp is needed, and our consultations 
ought not to be held wineglass in hand ! Beally I 
almost repent having pledged myself to take part 
in it. Upon my word, I would draw back now, if 
it were not against the nature of a Tichbourne to 
do so! You know him better than I do, Edward; 
pray warn him, and watch him also, for I am sorely 
afraid, despite his denial, that he has other fool- 
hardy designs in view, in which we shall gradually 
get entangled. You saw how he drew in his horns, 
when we declared so positively that we would have 
nothing to do with the crime he hinted at. Yet I 
should not be in the least surprised, if so rash as 
he is, he should go too far, and get involved in 
some reprehensible transactions. Do pray be on 
your guard both for his sake and for ours ; for we 
have entered into his designs to an extent which 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 119 


would render us amenable to the law, even if we 
took no part in carrying them into execution. ” 

There was no gainsaying Tichbourne’s words, 
and accordingly I promised to do my utmost to 
avert the mischief he dreaded. I felt watchfulness 
on my part to be all the more necessary, since I 
had observed that of late Babington had not been 
choice in the persons he associated with. One old 
soldier in particular, who had served in the Nether- 
lands under Parma, in who.se company he was 
frequently to be seen, a sinister-looking individual, 
inspired me with suspicion and aversion. 

By this time we had reached the gate close to 
Temple Bar, whence we could see London Bridge 
in the distance, and hear the rush of the river 
passing swiftly under its arches. We made a 
small detour to avoid seeing the heads of the unfor- 
tunate priests who had been executed ; my com- 
panion could not endure the gruesome sight, he 
said he saw them in his dreams, and more than 
once his own head was there too. On arriving at 
our lodging in the Strand, to our surprise we found 
a boy fast asleep on the doorstep. It was Johnny, 
the son of an old waterman named Bill Bell, who 
kept our boat for us. The lad informed me that 
he had been waiting there some hours for me ; his 
sister was worse, and his father had sent him to 
beg good Mr. Windsor to go round that same 
evening. I had of late been attending some of the 
poor about St. Catherine’s docks, in the neighbor- 
hood of the Tower, and the boatmen, as well as 
the dock labourers and porters,, mostly a rough lot 
of people, thought a great deal of me, more because 


120 THE WONDERFUL FLOAVER OF WOXINDON. 

I gave my advise gratis, sometimes supplementing 
it with an alms, than because of any great skill I 
had manifested as a physician. The girl in ques- 
tion was dying of consumption, and the whole 
college of physicians, could not have stopped the 
progress of the disease; yet as the doctor’s visit is 
always a consolation to the poor, I willingly 
accompanied the boy to his home on this errand 
of mercy. But first I bade him wait a moment, 
while I get some physic for his sister ; going in- 
doors I fetched a bottle of good wine, wrapped a 
warm cloak arouxid me, bade Tichbourne good- 
night, and sallied forth again into the darkness. 

I was glad to find that the boy had moored his 
boat at our garden steps, which ran down to the 
river, for I had no fancy for the narrow, dirty 
lanes of the city, that swarmed at night with all 
manner of disreputable people. The current of 
the river soon carried us to a landing place close to 
a dilapidated house, whose walls, supported on 
wooden posts, bulged out over the water. There 
my youthful ferryman made the boat fast to an iron 
ring, while I, glanced upwards to the narrow 
window of the chamber where the sick girl lay, 
whence a feeble light proceeded. Little did I think 
how precious that wretched low roofed garret 
would be to me before three months had come and 
gone! 

“Maud expects us,” Johnny said, pointing up 
to the window, then laying hold of a rope that hung 
from the lower room, he tugged at it violently, 
calling out: “He has come, father”! 

Immediately a trap-door just above our heads 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 121 


was opened, and a rope ladder was let down, which 
Johnny attached firmly to a post, and down it 
clambered Bill Bell himself, an unappetising figure, 
who might have been the ferry man of Cocytus 
described by Yirgil : 

Terribili squalore Charon , cui plurima mento , 

Canities inculta jucta . 

Foul and unsightly, on whose chin the grey hair 
thick and unkempt. But unlike the boatman of 
Hades, the old man looked goodnature itself : 
wiping away with the back of his hand a tear 
which hung on his eyelashes, he expressed his 
pleasure and gratitude for my visit. 

“By my troth,” he said, “I am truly thankful 
to you, sir, and still more my poor child yonder, 
who is fast passing away. God reward you, Doctor, 
and if ever you need a service that old Bell can 
render you, he will rather let himself be torn in 
pieces than fail you. Shall I carry you to shore, 
sir, or will you climb the ladder ?” 

I naturally chose the latter means of reaching 
my destination, and was soon in the room where 
the remainder of the family were consuming supper 
of salt fish. 

“We must take our meals when we can,” the 
old man remarked, as he kindled a lamp, to light 
me up the somewhat shaky stairs to the chamber 
above. There I found the poor girl in a high fever, 
struggling for breath, on a straw pallet by the 
window. 

“Oh you have come, Mr. Windsor,” she 
exclaimed “I thought I should never see you again. 
I believed the angel of whom you told me had come 
to call me away.” 


122 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“I should have come long ago / 7 I explained, 
“but I had gone into the country and I have only 
just returned. Take a little of this good physic I 
have brought you. Do you like it ? Mind, only 
one spoonful every hour . 77 

‘ ‘It is delicious , 7 7 the sufferer answered, sipping 
the wine I had poured out for her. “But it was not 
so much for the sake of your medicine that I wanted 
you to come, but that you might repeat to me that 
beautiful prayer about the angel guardian, and the 
Blessed Mother of God, and the five wounds of the 
Saviour. Because one of the young preachers from 
St. Paul’s was here, and first he scolded father for 
making him scramble up what he called a break- 
neck ladder, then he read a lot of prayers to me 
out of a book, that I could not understand and that 
did me no good. Now the prayers you said made 
me sorry for what I have done wrong, and quite 
resigned to the will of God . 77 

Accordingly, I said a few prayers by the child’s 
bedside, the old man kneeling meanwhile by the 
door, the tears trickling down his weather beaten 
face. I promised to come again on the following 
evening, and he rowed me back, pulling vigorously 
against the ebbing tide. 

“After all , 77 he said as he bade me good night, 
“there is nothing like the old religion to comfort 
the dying.” 



CHAPTER IX. 

Babington and I pay a visit to the Secretary of State. 

The next morning, when I went down into 
the little garden that lay between the house 
and the river’s bank, I found Tichbourne in 
a very different mood to that of the preceding 
evening. The fair spring morning and the bright 
sunshine had had the effect of raising his spirits. 
We sat down to our breakfast, which consisted of 
mulled ale and a dish of ham and eggs ; before we 
had finished, Babington made his appearance attired 
in his finest toggery. He wore a skyblue velvet 
doublet slashed with white, and over it a crimson 
velvet cloak edged with silverlace ; a small lace 
ruff and a gold chain adorned his neck ; in a word, 
from the feather upon his new hat to the red leather 
shoes upon his feet, his toilette was perfect. I 
must acknowledge that never was a smarter young 
nobleman seen in the streets of London, for his 
pleasant face and bright eyes were right comely to 
look upon. 

We began to tease him, asking whether he was 
going to Court, to cut out Sir Walter Raleigh, who 
at that time was the acknowledged favourite of the 
Queen. Babington said he did not covet the honour 
of being the last recipient of her fickle favour. 
He had only dressed himself properly that Wal- 
singham might see that all the Catholic gentry were 
not obliged to go about in rags. He told me I 
must put on my best clothes for the same reason. 

( 123 ) 


124 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I could not consent to dress as gaily as 
Babington. I put on a black velvet doublet and a 
dark blue cloak, as more becoming to a member of 
the medical profession ; I also let myself be per- 
suaded to wear a pleated ruff of Tichbourne’s 
round my neck, and his gold-handled rapier at my 
side. Thus accoutred, we set forth, Tichbourne 
wishing us God speed on our errand. 

We soon reached Walsingkam’s residence, 
an unpretending dwelling in comparison to 
Burghley House, the Lord Treasurer’s mansion, 
near to which it was situated, but sufficiently 
imposing in contrast to the generality of London 
houses. Thanks to our fine clothes and Babington’ s 
assumption of authority, the sentries, who stood 
leaning on their halberds, let us pass without a 
word. The porter asked our names and called a 
young man, one Robert Pooley by name, a man of 
good birth and pleasing address, who was giving 
his services to Walsingham as unsalaried secretary, 
whilst waiting for a post under government. I 
knew the young fellow by sight quite well, having 
often met him at various places of amusement. 
Babington seemed to be intimately acquainted with 
him ; they greeted one another in the friendliest 
manner. I was introduced, and Pooley expressed 
himself as greatly delighted. He asked in what 
way he could be of service to us ; when he heard 
that we desired an interview with the Secretary of 
State, he said : 6 ‘There are about a dozen petitioners 
already waiting in the ante-chamber, and some of 
them are influential persons. Besides, there is a 
meeting of the Privy Council at Lord Burghley’ s 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXIHDON. 125 


at 11 o’clock. But we must manage it somehow. 
I will take you into the private ante-room and 
announce your names to the Lord Secretary of 
State; one must let one’s friends see that one is 
willing to be of use to them, and that one has got a 
little influence at headquarters.” 

There upon he conducted us through an office, 
in which a dozen clerks were busy writing, into a 
small cabinet, drew two arm-chairs up to a table 
on which lay writing materials, and requested us to 
write on a sheet of paper our petition for an audi- 
ence, together, with both our names. This he carried 
in to Walsingham before the ink was dry, and 
speedily returned with the tidings that the minister 
would be most happy to receive us in a few minutes’ 
lime. 

We were, in fact, scarcely kept waiting at all, 
before we were ushered into Walsingham ’s pres- 
ence. I was quite taken by surprise at the friendly 
manner in which he received us. He wore a simple 
black robe, without any other ornament than a 
gold chain with a likeness of the Queen. As he 
stood by the door bowing politely, he slightly 
raised the black velvet cap from his head, which 
was quite grey and nearly bald at the top, taking 
our measure meanwhile with a rapid searching 
glance. Then he came forward smiling, and shook 
our hands heartily in both of his. 

“It gives me great pleasure to make your 
acquaintance, noble sirs, ’ ’ he said. Then addressing 
me, he continued : “So you are the famous Babing- 
ton, whose skill in all knightly sports is the talk 
of London, so that his renown has even reached 


126 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the Queen’s ears. Only the other day she asked 
me, how it was that the young gentleman had never 
made his appearance at Court ? ’ ’ 

I of course excused myself, and presented my 
companion, as the Babington of whom he had 
heard. “How foolish of me,” he exclaimed, “I 
might have known it, from the elegance and costli- 
ness of his attire! I beg pardon a thousand times! 
I find myself getting more stupid every day, and I 
really must beg her Majesty to transfer the burden 
and responsibility of my office to younger and more 
able shoulders. Here we have a typical young 
courtier before us! You have travelled sir, if I 
mistake not, you have been in Paris ? Ah, I thought 
as much. There is nothing like the Court of 
Catharine of Medicis to give a man style and polish. 
Our nobles here are good enough in their way, 
capital officers, bold sea-captains, but at Court as 
uncouth and awkward as can be. — And this then 
is Mr. Windsor, who studied at Padua with such 
brilliant success, and whose poetic talent has already 
won for him a wreath of laurels. Do not blush, 
sir, I only repeat what I have heard. God knows, 

I never have time to take a book of poetry in my 
hand much less to realize the aspirations of my 
youth, when, as Horace says : 

Quodsi me lyric is vatibus inseres , 

Sublimi feriam sidera vertice ! 

(But if you count me among the lyric poets, 

With my lofty head I shall smite the stars.) 
Ha, ha, one has to knock one’s pate against some- 
thing very different to the stars when one gets older. 
Please to step into my poor study, gentlemen.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 127 

Thus saying, Walsingham led us into his pri- 
vate room, and it will readily be understood that 
we were highly delighted at meeting with a recep- 
tion so utterly unlike what we had expected. The 
compliments paid to my companion greatly in- 
creased his sense of importance, and I will not 
deny that the incense offered at my shrine made 
me see everything through a rose-coloured haze. 
Not until some months later did I perceive that his 
intention was to throw dust in our eyes, so as to 
draw us sinrpletons more easily into his net. 

Walsingham begged us to sit down in his 
room, and seated himself at a table which was cov- 
ered with documents and papers of all kinds. He 
continued for several minutes to speak of the 
pleasure our visit gave him. It came out that 
Babington’s father and he had been fellow students 
at King’s College, Cambridge; they had known 
each other very well, he said, but Babington had 
been by far the better scholar of the two. It was a 
pity, he continued, that he had never been able to 
reconcile himself to the new political situation. 
“And that seems to be the case with you two 
young gentlemen, is it not so? You still cannot 
make up your minds to attend divine worship as 
established by her Majesty? What a pity! I 
am really very sorry for it. You are shutting 
yourselves off from every position of influence. It 
appears to me most impolitic and unnecessary.” 

“It does involve the greatest sacrifices on 
our part,” I remarked, “sacrifices which we 
certainly should not make, were they not imposed 
on us by our conscience.” 


128 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“Alas, my young friend, that is your mistake. 
If her Majesty required us to do anything un- 
christian, I should not wonder at your opposi- 
tion; but this is only a question of degree, of 
different forms of one common Christianity, a 
matter upon which every ruler has the right to 
decide, as is now generally acknowledged. Look 
at Germany, there the maxim has long been ac- 
cepted : Cuius regio , ejus et religio. Who rules the 
state, must its creed dictate. You know the old 
saying : When you are at Rome, do as the Ro- 
mans do. Well, then, when you are in England, 
do as the English do. We are Englishmen, not 
Romans, therefore our Christianity should be that 
of England, not of Rome. It would be delightful, 
if we were all of one faith. But for that to be 
the case you Catholics would have to give in on 
the one hand, and the Puritans and Independents 
on the other, and meet in the via media laid down 
by her Majesty. Medium tenuere beati! Here I am 
wasting your time with my chatter; not that I 
w T ant any disputation, but only to let you see how 
matters appear from my point of view as an 
English statesman. And now, my good sirs, what 
can I do for youP ? 

Babington then told him, not without a little 
embarrassment, at first, how we six fellow-stu- 
dents had formed a kind of club for manly 
sports, and had taken a room at St. Giles for 
our symposia , and how on the evening before, old 
Clayton had made out a long story, giving us no 
rest until we promised to see the Secretary of 
State himself on the subject, for as much as in 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 129 


these troublous times, any misapprehensions might 
lead to serious consequences. 

Whilst Babington was speaking, Walsingham 
stroked his white beard, rubbed his long, aquiline 
nose, and smiled to himself. Then he laughed 
outright and said: “Old Clayton’s advice was 
not particularly wise, if we are to believe the 
French proverb, qui s’ excuse, s’ accuse. And, really, 
I should feel inclined to take the matter up in earn- 
est, if I did not know with whom I have to deal. 
Whatever should make you take up the idea that I 
should fancy you were consirirators! Is that what 
you were afraid of! Ha, ha, ha! They are rather 
different looking to you! Sinister countenance, 
sneaking manner, silent as the grave ; that is what 
conspirators are. Not high-spirited young fellows 
like you, overflowing with mirth and gaiety. I sent 
the agent who brought me the information about 
his business. What has become of the paper! 
Here it is, in the waste-paper basket, with the 
Latin lines that he considered as particularly in- 
criminating : 

Hi mihi sunt comites, quos ipsa pericula jungunt. 

Of course that only refers to dangers encountered 
in boating, riding, and so on. And in gambling 
too! No! Well, I am heartily glad that you are no 
dice-players. You must not be angry with the 
informer, because he misunderstood the lines — the 
offspring of your poetic talent, Mr. Windsor. He 
is new at his work, and we know that a young 
hound often mistakes the track of the deer for the 
slot of the wolf.” 

It must be confessed that these words were a 


130 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

great relief to both of us, as Babington showed 
very plainly. We both thanked Walsingham for 
the good opinion he had of us, and assured him 
that her Majesty had no more loyal subjects than 
ourselves. I then added, the great kindness he 
showed us gave me courage to venture to lay 
another matter before him. In a few brief but 
forcible sentences, I told him what had occurred at 
Woxindon, concluding with these words: “I leave 
it to your judgment to decide whether such be- 
haviour on Topcliffe’ s part, especially the arrest of 
a young lady not yet of age, and a boy ten years 
old, in the very room where their father lay dead, 
is calculated to make her Majesty’s government 
more beloved. May I therefore request that you 
will give orders that both the children should be 
immediately set at liberty.” 

My story seemed to make quite an impression 
on Walsingham. He shook me by the hand, and 
thanked me for the good service I had done to the 
government. Then he rang and inquired whether 
Topcliffe was in the ante chamber, and on hearing 
that he was, desired him to be shown in directly. 

Topcliffe on entering, looked not a little aston- 
ished to see Babington and me there. Walsingham 
spoke to him instantly, and pretty sharply too. “I 
must say you have done us great credit, by taking 
into custody a young lady and an innocent child ! 
Who ever bade you do that? Show me the war- 
rant I gave you, and let us see whether there is a 
syllable in it about either of your prisoners.” 

Topcliffe stammered out in excuse, that he had 
taken them into custody because it was evident 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 131 


that they both knew the hiding place of the Jesuit, 
and he thought that a night spent in Newgate would 
unloose their tongues. 

“And then you imagined you would go and 
seize the priest, ” Walsingham answered in a scorn- 
ful tone. “Really, Mr. Topcliffe, such stupidity is 
inconceivable! Do you think that the man would 
wait atWoxindon for you'? He is long ago over the 
hills and far away. Instead of patiently laying in 
wait for him on the spot, you come in triumph to 
London with two children, proclaiming your own 
folly, enraging me and bringing her Majesty’s gov- 
ernment into contempt! You ought to be ashamed 
of yourself. The best post for you will soon be one 
of the torturers in the Tower.” 

Topcliffe’ s countenance fell, while he listened 
to this tirade on the Secretary’s part. Then he 
said : “I beg your worship not to be hard on me, 
and to remember how many mass-priests I have 
brought to the gallows. And I should have suc- 
ceeded this time, for I had laid my snares devilish 
well, if I had not been tricked so basely. I believe 
these two gentlemen here, more particularly Mr. 
Windsor, who pretends to be a physician, had no 
small share in deceiving me, and therefore I 
humbly beg that they may be arrested forthwith.” 

“You incorrigible blockhead!” exclaimed 
Walsingham. “Begone and bring the two Bell- 
amys here to me at once. I will myself release 
them from custody, and do my utmost to compen- 
sate them for the fright they have received.” 

Topcliffe immediately retired, while Walsing- 
ham, turning to us, said in his excuse that the fel- 


132 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

low liad his good points, and was a useful servant 
of her Majesty in the prosecution of the Jesuits 
and secular priests sent by the Pope into our 
country, and who were the cause of all the severity 
which the Queen, who was the most merciful of 
rulers, had of late years exercised towards Cath- 
olics. (I bethought myself of the hundreds who 
were put to death, and of the terrible penalties in- 
flicted by law, long before Persons and Campion, 
who were the first Jesuits who came over, landed 
on our shores. But of course I kept these thoughts 
to myself.) “It would be greatly to the interest of 
you Catholics, ’ ’ continued Walsingham, “not to 
assist and harbour as you do these emmissaries of 
the Pope, whom our gracious Queen cannot but 
regard as her deadly enemy, since the publication 
of the Bull of deposition, that most foolish act on 
the part of the usually wise Curia. The coming of 
these men is naturally a cause of great irritation to 
her Majesty, the more so because of the extreme 
indulgence which she has shown for some years 
past, by commuting the sentence of death, passed 
on some hundred Jesuits and seminary-priests, 
into that of perpetual exile.” 

Much might have been said in answer to these 
assertions of Walsingham’ s, which he uttered in a 
grave, sententious manner. Moving his head 
slowly from side to side, he shook his finger at 
me, and said: “Yes, my good Windsor, there may 
be some truth in what that villain Topcliffe de- 
clared, that you had a hand in helping the Jesuit 
Edmund, of whom we are in search, to escape. 
Believe me, it is with the best intentions that I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 133 

warn you to abstain from meddling in such matters 
for the future, or else you may meet with rougher 
handling than you will find agreeable. For the 
nonce, however, we will wink at your doings, in 
order not to spoil the pleasure of our first inter- 
view.’ ’ 

I thanked him for this proof of his good will, 
and rose to go, saying we had already trespassed 
too much on his valuable time. But he begged us 
to stay a few minutes longer, as he could not con- 
sider his time otherwise than well spent in the en- 
deavour to disabuse the minds of two young men 
of talent and rank of their prejudices, especially 
those that related to her Majesty’s proceedings. 
“To prove my sincerity ,’ 7 he continued, “my 
dear Mr. Windsor, I may perhaps be able to help 
you to a rise in your profession. We have re- 
cently received intimation from Chartley — mind I 
speak to you in the strictest confidence — that the 
health of the unfortunate Queen of Scots is any- 
thing but satisfactory. Her rheumatic pains are 
worse; she cannot sleep at night, and suffers 
from irritability and depression. Poor woman! 
This is not to be wondered at, after eighteen 
years of confinement, and the bad tidings she has 
about * her royal son at Edinburgh. Of course 
liberty would be the only real cure for her ail- 
ments, and it is not my fault that she is de- 
prived of this boon. In fact, I addressed a mem- 
orial to the Queen, setting forth in full the reasons 
why she ought to release her Sister of Scotland. 
There it is” — and as he spoke he drew a somewhat 
bulky document from under some papers on his 


13 I THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

table — “there it is, if yon care to see it for your- 
selves, but please remember that this is a state 
secret. Unfortunately, I must acknowledge that 
the arguments of my respected colleague, Lord 
Burghley, had more weight than mine, and the 
Privy Council is still of opinion, that it is neces- 
sary for the public welfare to keep Mary Stuart 
as a prisoner of state. So nothing more can be 
done. However, I shall see that she is treated 
with all possible humanity. I proposed to send 
a skilled physician to her, but she declines my 
offer, because the man was not a Catholic, and 
she was afraid his drugs might be too strong for 
her. A person in her position naturally becomes 
somewhat suspicious. Now it has just occurred 
to me that the post of Physician to the Queen 
of Scots would be very suitable for our young 
friend here, Mr. Windsor, not only on account of 
his lineage and learning, but because he is un. 
fortunately (begging his pardon) a stubborn 
Catholic. What do you say to this proposal, 
Doctor? ” 

It will readily be imagined how my heart 
leapt at this offer, so attractive and so unex- 
pected! Babington nudged me with his elbow, 
to urge me to accept at once, as it was evident 
that my presence at Chartley would be most ad- 
vantageous for our project. The movement did 
not escape Walsingham’s notice, and a slight 
smile passed over his countenance. I suppressed 
the hasty acquiescence, which rose to my lips, 
made a formal speech of thanks to my benefac- 
tor, and- begged him to allow me a couple of days 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 135 


to consider the matter, lest my inexperienced 
shoulders were fit to bear the burden of so 
great an honour and responsibility. Walsingliam 
commended me for my modesty, and bade me re- 
turn within a week’s time to let him know my 
decision. 

As he finished speaking, the clock struck half- 
past ten. He rose and bade us farewell, shaking 
hands with us in the most cordial manner. As we 
were leaving the room, he added playfully: “Upon 
second thoughts, Mr. Babington, I think my sug- 
gestion that you should go to Court was rather ill- 
advised. It might occasion jealousies and in- 
trigues, or even bloody duels, if a new star arose 
to outshine Sir Walter Raleigh, who won her 
Majesty’s favour at the cost of his cloak, not half so 
grand a one, by the bye, as that which you are 
wearing. So you had better beware how you 
launch your gallant bark on to such stormy 
seas. Au revoir , dear sirs, and think of old Wals- 
ingham, who is not as bad as he is painted, as one 
of your best friends. What was I going to say? 
Oh, the two little Bellamys had better be sent to 
you, Mr. Windsor; you will be so good as to see 
that they reach Woxindon in safety. I believe you 
live in this neighbourhood?” 

“Close by — next door to the Anchor on the 
Strand.” 

“That is all right. Pooley can take the chil- 
dren to you, or perhaps my nephew St. Barbe had 
better go. Once more good day to you! ” So say- 
ing, with a polite bow, which we returned, he went 
back into his cabinet. 


CHAPTER X. 


We make merry with some new acquaintances and some old 
friends. 

In the entrance hall we found Robert Pooley 
waiting for us. Babington, who was almost beside 
himself for joy, literally fell upon his neck, 
exclaiming: “Hurrah for the Lord Secretary of 
State! Never amongst non-Catholics have I found 
a man of such good sense and good feeling, never 
did I think that I should find one.” In fact he 
was so boisterous in his rejoicing, that some of the 
clerks came out of the office, to see what the noise 
was about. I put my arm through his, and tried 
to get him away, but he would not be checked, and 
invited all present to join us at the Anchor , and 
drink Walsingham’s health in a bottle of canary. 

There was a little whispering between Pooley 
and the clerks, then he and two others, Thomas 
Philipps and Arthur Gregory by name, said they 
would be happy to accompany us. We were to 
know enough and too much of those two young 
men later on ; I took an aversion to them from the 
very first, especially to Philipps, a red-haired 
fellow with sharp, ferrety eyes, and a countenance 
strongly marked by the smallpox. All three were 
quite young, scarcely older than ourselves, and 
knew how to keep up a pleasant conversation, so 
that before many glasses of canary had been drunk, 
we had become better friends than considerations 
of prudence would have allowed. In the exuberance 
of his high spirits Babington appeared inclined to 
( 136 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 137 

disclose his projects to his guests, who evidently 
tried to draw him. I was obliged to admonish him, 
by treading on his foot under the table, not to say 
what an hour later he would have wished to recall. 

Finding that Babington’.s lips ran over with thei r 
master’s praise, our three guests took their cue, 
and said all they could in his favour, and how it 
certainly was not his fault that Catholics were so 
hardly dealt with. They declared Lord Burghley 
was to blame for that ; as for Walsingham, he had 
for some time past been striving to form a party in 
Parliament, to bring about a repeal of the more 
stringent laws against Catholics. It was all through 
him that the Queen had pardoned so many priests, 
and the execution of the two seminary priests, two 
days since, had been entirely Lord Burghley’ s 
doing. It was obvious that so astute a politician 
as Walsingham would be desirous to stand well 
with the Catholic aristocracy, because each year 
made it less probable that Elizabeth would marry, 
and give a protestant heir to the english throne. 
On the other hand, there was almost a certainty 
that the captive Queen of Scots would ascend the 
throne after all, and this was reason enough why 
Walsingham should incline more and more to the 
side of the Catholics. In fact, they thought he 
would not be sorely displeased, if Mary Stuart 
were to escape from captivity, if only to spite Lord 
Burghley. 

Of course we drank in all this information 
eagerly, as it afforded us a clue to Walsingham' s 
unexpected friendliness. Then it was that Babing- 
ton was on the eve of revealing all our schemes. 


138 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I was only just in time to prevent this, by adminis- 
tering to him, as I have said, a vigorous kick. I 
then remarked that every lover of justice must 
rejoice to see the Queen of Scots set at liberty; but 
I could not believe that, the Protestant party would 
tolerate a Catholic sovereign upon the throne. In 
that case it would be seen how patiently the Catho- 
lics had borne the heavy yoke, in contradistinction 
to the Puritans, who would soon rise in arms 
against a “papist” Queen. 

Our guests laughed, and said, possibly some 
fanatic might draw the sword in his zeal for the 
Lord, but the majority of the j)oople would take 
their beads again and go quietly to mass. 

“In that respect,” observed Pooley, “we are 
far more politic than you Romanists. Just as Lord 
Burghley, then Sir William Cecil, used to serve 
mass piously in the days of Queen Mary the Catho- 
lic, so now-a-days, he and Walsingham and thou- 
sands more would go to mass again at the Queen’s 
command. If you were a little more time-serving, 
you would fare much better, and do your religion 
better service, than by bearing fines and imprison- 
ment, not to speak of worse penalties, that are 
always hanging over your heads.” 

Such was the gist of our conversation, as we 
sat over our sack in the private parlour into which 
our host of the Anchor had shown us. We shook 
hands on parting, Robert Pooley being especially 
friendly. Babington made an appointment with 
him to go for a row on the Thames that afternoon. 

When at length we reached home, Tichbourne 
was waiting impatiently to hear how we had fared. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 139 


When we told him of Walsingham’s great cordi- 
ality, he was by no means as much gratified as we 
had been. He thought it was all assumed in order 
to deceive and entrap ns. This made Babington 
very angry, and I had hard work to prevent a 
quarrel between the two. Tichbourne held to his 
opinion, and said : “Believe me, Walsingham is an 
old fox, and an enemy more .to be dreaded than 
Burghley, who in some respects is a more honour- 
able man, though it would not be easy to find his 
equal in guile and perfidy. ” 

“You are a bird of ill omen, 7 7 answered Ba- 
bington, “shutting your eyes to the light of day. 
What could be more honourable than the whole of 
Walsingham’ s behaviour towards us? If he had 
suspected us of being conspirators, would he have 
talked in so candid and frank a manner % If he 
had had any misgivings in regard to our schemes, 
would he have offered Windsor the post of body- 
physician to the Queen of Scots, thus admitting us 
to free intercourse with the prisoner, and smooth- 
ing the way most delightfully for her rescue ? ’ 7 

“Or rather laying a hidden snare for us,” con- 
tinued Tichbourne. “The fisherman sets the weir- 
basket wide open, the trout swims in and finds 
himself caught.” 

“You always were and always will be the most 
terrible sceptic I ever knew,” rejoined Babington 
impatiently. “And you Windsor, are far too slow 
and cautious. With such ways as yours no bold 
enterprise could ever be carried out. You should 
have accepted Walsingham ’s offer at once, and 
expressed yourself as deeply indebted to him ! 7 7 


140 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“I believe”, answered Tickbourne, “that 
Windsor’s hesitation was the wisest thing either 
of you did this morning. Walsingham very 
probably only made this extraordinary proposal 
as a test, and to have closed with it eagerly 
would only have been to confirm his suspicions.” 

^His suspicions!” Babington retorted. “I 
tell you he has no suspicions. If he had, would he 
have destined one of us to fill so important a post?” 

“To offer any one a post and to destine him 
for it are different things,” Tickbourne answered. 
“Walsingham has his own ways and means of ren- 
dering the acceptance of it impracticable. He may 
attach impossible conditions to it ; he must submit 
it to the Privy Council, perchance to the Queen, 
for approval, and that may be withheld ; he may — ” 

Here Babington interrupted him again, saying 
he would hear no more. 1 c What if W indsor accepts 
the day after tomorrow ?” he asked. 

“Then we must hear the conditions, and make 
sure that we are not being entrapped into any- 
thing,” Tickbourne replied ; and I added, in 
that case I should believe that Walsingham had 
political reasons for desiring Mary Stuart to be set 
at liberty, and he was making a tool of us. At 
this juncture our housekeeper, old Barbara came 
hurriedly into the room, announcing that two 
young gentlemen with a young lady and a little 
boy were below, asking for us. ‘ ‘They have come, ’ ’ 
Babington exclaimed, and he and I ran down stairs. 

Right enough, the little Bellamys were there, 
crying and laughing for joy when they saw Babing- 
ton and me again. The boy threw himself into 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 141 


Babington’s arms, and Mistress Anne behaved very 
graciously towards him, whom she looked upon as 
an old friend. Robert Pooley had come with 
them, and another young man, very quiet and 
demure looking, whom I felt at once I would much 
sooner trust than Pooley, who was almost cringing 
in his civility. This young man was introduced 
to us as Mr. St. Barbe, Walsingham’s nephew, now 
known to us as our worthy Brother Anselm, whom 
I saw for the first time on that 22nd of April in the 
year of grace 1586, under very pleasant circum- 
stances, since by his uncle’s orders he was bring- 
ing the children to us, safe and sound out of prison. 

I invited the whole party to come up stairs to 
my room, and as soon as the first greetings and 
congratulations were over, I hastened to dispatch 
Barbara to the Anchor Inn, to procure the best 
luncheon that was to be had, and to fetch from a 
french pastry cook’s in Fleetstreet, some tooth- 
some cakes for desert, such as ladies and children 
love. I was accustomed to find Barbara rather 
contrary, when there was a question of entertaining 
any of my comrades, but on this occasion, against 
her wont, she ran off quite willingly, on hearing 
that the two children had been shut up all night in 
Newgate for conscience sake, for she was a staunch 
Catholic, and a kind old soul at heart. 

Whilst Barbara was laying the table and pre- 
paring the repast, the Bellamys related their adven- 
tures. Topcliffe had himself conducted them to 
prison, and stopping under the dark, frowning 
gateway with its iron gates, had asked the boy 
again if he would tell him the Jesuit’s hiding- 


142 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

place. The child acknowledged that the massive, 
formidable walls struck terror into his soul, but he 
stoutly refused to answer, thereby earning a hard 
blow from his enraged questioner. The poor little 
fellow went on to say that he had raised his eyes 
to the niche above the gateway where stood an 
image of the Blessed Virgin, and remembering 
that his grandmother had told him how Campion, 
on his way to execution, had saluted that very 
image, he bowed his own curly head respectfully, 
in imitation of the martyr. After that he did not 
feel much afraid of Topcliffe and the savage look- 
ing porter with the great keys. But when Topcliffe 
pointed out a ruffian-like individual, who glared at 
the child as if he would like to devour him, and 
told him it was the headsman, who would cut his 
head off if he did not tell where the Jesuit was, his 
blood did, he said, run cold. “Then,” he con- 
tinued, “they put Anne and me into a narrow, 
pitch dark cell, without giving us a morsel of 
supper, where there was never a bed to sleep on, 
only a heap of straw in one corner, on which, when 
we had said our prayers, we huddled ourselves 
together and tried to sleep. And just fancy how 
horrible ! there came a rustling in the straw, and 
something ran right over me, a mouse or a rat, I 
did not know which ; and we both cried for fear 
lest we should be eaten up alive before the morning. 
We thought of Daniel in the lion’s den, and we felt 
sure that Almighty God, who shut the mouths of 
the great lions, would surely shut the mouths of 
the mice and rats? Then I remembered how the 
prophet Habacuc carried the reapers’ dinner to 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 143 

Daniel, and I wished Uncle Remy would bring me 
my bread and milk. At last I fell asleep, and 
wiien I woke it was broad daylight, at least as light 
as it could be w T ith only one little barred window, 
and the jailer was there w r ith a basin of gruel for 
our breakfast. The whole morning we sat on a 
bundle of straw, till all at once the key was turned 
in the lock, and in came Topcliffe, in a worse 
temper than I had ever seen him before. He was 
cursing and swearing, and I thought we were going 
to have our heads cut off. He drove Anne and me 
down the steps and out of the gate, but I did not 
forget to make my obeisance to our Lady as we 
passed. However he did not take us to the scaffold, 
but to a fine house, where there was a grand gentle- 
man with a gold chain. He was very kind ; he 
kissed Anne’s hand and patted me on the head, but 
I did not like him half as well as I like you, Mr. 
Babington, or you, Mr. Windsor; I do not know 
why, but he had such funny eyes — ’ 1 

“Frith,” interrupted Anne hastily, “for shame, 
we owe our release to him. Go to that young 
gentleman yonder, who is the Lord Secretary’s 
nephew, and beg his pardon.” 

The boy at once went up to St. Barbe, and 
begged him not to tell his uncle what he had said; 
adding that he would pray God to reward him for 
his kindness. 

St. Barbe smiled goodhumouredly, and putting 
his hand into his pocket gave the child a brand new 
shilling for his amusing story, and bade him say a 
prayer for him too. But as he was at that time a 
rigid Puritan, he reproved the boy for making a 


144 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

reverence to the image of the Mother of God, saying 
that it was popish idolatry, since God had forbidden 
ns to make graven images. Frith, who was a 
precious little fellow, immediately said, if images 
were forbidden, why was the Queen’s effigy on his 
bright shilling! “We are forbidden to worship 
images,” St. Barbe explained. “We do not wor- 
ship the image of the Mother of God,” rejoined the 
boy, “we only show it homage and reverence. 
What would you say if I treated the Queen’s por- 
trait here with disrespect ? And she is only the 
Queen of England, whereas Blessed Mary is Queen 
of Heaven and earth, and carries in her arms the 
Child Jesus, who is true God and our Redeemer.” 

I was so pleased with this answer on Frith’s 
part, that I pulled out my purse and gave him a 
crown piece. Babington did the same, to the great 
delight of the boy, who had never before had so 
much money in his possession. To the credit of 
St. Barbe, I must say that he seemed more discon- 
certed than displeased by the child’s repartee, and 
took it with a good grace. Pooley kept saying 
that little Bellamy would surely one day be Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury. 

Just then Barbara came in to say lancheon 
was on the table. Pooley and St. Barbe rose to 
take leave, but we pressed them to join us at 
our little feast, so that we might in some slight 
measure show our sense of the obligation we were 
under to the Secretary of State in the persons of 
his nephew and his assistant. Pooley accepted at 
once; St. Barbe yielded after a little persuasion, 
and we all sat down to table. The viands were 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 145 


excellent, and our appetites were excellent too, 
since two of the party had been fasting in Newgate, 
and the others were young and hearty. The dessert 
was what Miss Anne and little Frith appreciated 
most : gingerbread and confectionery, dried raisins, 
dates from the Levant and golden oranges, and last 
of all, a tiny glass of sweet Tokay, a choice liqueur 
which Tichbourne produced from the cupboard in 
honour of the day. We should all have been right 
merry, had not the remembrance of their poor 
father’s recent death prevented the two children 
from enjoying themselves as they otherwise would 
have done. But in the morning of life, tears and 
smiles follow close upon one another, and one 
could not take it amiss, if the sorrows of yesterday 
were forgotten awhile in the joys of today. 

However, Miss Anne presently begged us to 
escort her and her brother to Woxindon. So we 
said grace, and Tichbourne went to see about the 
horses. In the meantime, we went out into the 
garden; Babington offered his arm to Miss Anne, 
and gathered for her a little posy of the fragrant 
violets which grew under the hedge. Frith and I 
went down to the landing place, where our boat 
lay. Of course nothing would content the boy, but 
to go onto the river ; therefore, as we saw our boat- 
man Bill Bell at a little distance, we called to him 
to take us for a row. The rest of the company 
were willing to accompany us, so we all got into 
the boat, for we knew that nearly an hour would 
elapse before the horses were ready. 


CHAPTER XI. 


The incidents that occured during our row upon the Thames, 
and a conversation that the Queen held with little Frith. 

The beautiful spring weather had tempted 
many people out on the river that afternoon, and it 
was covered with barges of every size and descrip- 
tion, with bright pennons and streamers and full of 
gaily dressed folk. From the opposite bank, where 
the Paris Garden , a favourite place of entertainment, 
was situated, came sounds of music ; flags flying 
from the tents invited idlers to enjoy the amuse- 
ments and pastime provided for them. Many of 
the boats were plying thither ; others like our own, 
were rowed slowly up and down, that their occu- 
pants might bask in the sunshine, and obtain a 
good view of the town, with its multitudinous 
houses, palaces and churches. Bill Bell rowed us 
up as far as Westminster, where the magnificent 
Abbey was seen to perfection in the soft clear sun- 
light, but he took care not to approach too near to 
London Bridge, for fear lest the young lady and 
the boy should discern the horrible trophies im- 
paled thereon. Babington sat in the stern and 
steered the boat; the two children and myself 
occupied the middle, with St. Barbe and Pooley 
facing us in the bow. We had enough to do to tell 
the boy, who questioned us incessantly, the names of 
all the churches and prominent buildings, and were 
often surprised at the sagacious remarks he made. 
“What is that gloomy edifice with a quantity of 
closely barred windows, close to the riverside! 77 he 
inquired. (146) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 147 


“That is the Clink , 77 I answered. “There are 
about five and twenty Catholic priests confined 
there now, and many of onr martyrs have languished 
within those walls . 77 

“And now uncle Eobert is shut up there , 77 
rejoined the boy. “Please Babington, steer us 
close by, perhaps we may see him at the window 
of his cell . 77 

“Very likely we shall , 77 replied Babington, 
“provided it looks out on the river, for all the 
prisoners seem to have come to the window for the 
sunshine. Look, you can see row after row of 
heads gazing out at the water . 7 7 

In fact, as we drew nearer to the walls we 
could see the face of some captive behind the 
grating of every loophole, 'and before long the boy 7 s 
sharp eyes descried his uncle at one of the windows 
just under the roof. He shouted to him, and Anne 
waved her handkerchief . % The prisoner recognized 
the children, and thrusting his hand through the 
bars waved a greeting in return. But the current 
was too strong to allow our remaining stationary, 
so we had to drift down and then pull back in a 
curve. After this had been done two or three 
times, it attracted the notice of the watchmen, who 
called to us, asking what we were looking for, and 
bidding us begone from the place. The hubbub 
they made led a boatful of young men and low 
people who were passing to push their boat nearer, 
and assail us with cries of “Papists! Papists ! 77 
Then they began to ask, if we had come to get 
absolution for our wicked plots from one of the 
l)riests of Baal who had lodging there at the Queen 7 s 


148 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

expense, or if we were scheming to get the black- 
birds out of their cage ? 

Babington was never inclined to let himself be 
insulted by the populace, and he might have got 
us all into trouble, had not both the young lady 
and St. Barbe both begged our oarsman to row 
away as fast as he could. St. Barbe moreover 
stood up in the boat, and asked the watchmen if 
they did not know who he was 1? Then a voice from 
one of the surrounding boats called out : “It is Lord 
Walsingham’s nephew ! Citizens, uncover your 
heads !” Thereupon both the watchmen on the 
banks and the people in the boats were fain with 
humble apologies to let us pass on our way ; but 
just at that moment we became aware of the prox- 
imity of a barge of considerable size, whose rapid 
approach neither we nor the Londoners had observed 
in consequence of the recent commotion. 

The vessel was a most magnificent one ; on the 
prow was the gilt figure of a unicorn, supporting a 
shield with the arms of England ; rich tapestries 
hung on the sides to the water’s edge ; in the middle 
of the deck was a pavilion of red and white silk, 
raised on painted poles and adorned with costly 
fringes and tassels. The centre of the pavilion 
was surmounted by a large gilt crown ; plumes of 
ostrich feathers nodded from each corner while 
from the stern of the boat floated a silk banner 
bearing St. Andrew’s cross. In the prow two 
servants of the royal household wearing their livery 
of black and red and bearing silver staves were 
stationed ; ever and anon they shouted with sten- 
torian voices : Make way for her Majesty the Queen! 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 149 


It was, in fact, the royal barge, for Elizabeth, 
profiting by the beauty of the day, was removing 
the Court from Bichmond to her palace at Green- 
wich. Manned by able oarsmen, it had outstripped 
tlie barges and boats of the Queen’s suite, which 
were left almost out of sight in the distance. The 
Queen was to be seen seated on some velvet cushions 
beneath the baldachino, herself decked in costly 
and gorgeous apparel, for, as is well known, she 
resembled her mother, Anne Boleyn, in the delight 
she took in the extent and splendour of her ward- 
robe. I never had so good a view of her as from 
our boat on the Thames that afternoon, and I was 
much struck by her proud and majestic appearance. 
She wore upon her head a small gold crown ; an 
enormous ruff of the finest Brabant lace encircled 
her throat; her bodice was a blaze of jewels; her 
huge puffed sleeves of blue velvet were covered 
with a network of lilac cords, and her white velvet 
skirt was stiff with gold embroidery and pearls. 
But it was not the magnificence of her dress that 
proclaimed her to be the Queen, so much as her 
haughty bearing, the keen, searching glance of her 
eye. She had once been handsome ; but strong 
passions, more than actual years, had worked havoc 
with her beauty, havoc which the rouge-pot could 
no longer avail to conceal. Several of her ladies 
in waiting sat at her feet. These were generally 
selected with care, lest their good looks should 
throw the Queen into the shade. A few courtiers 
stood or sat around, amongst them I remarked Sir 
Christopher Hatton, and the new favourite Sir 
Walter Baleigh, who took the place of the Earl of 
Leicester, then absent in Flanders. 


150 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I had little opportunity to make these obser- 
vations, for in less time than it now takes to put 
them into words, the royal barge was close upon us. 
Elizabeth had heard the shouts of the watchmen 
from a distance, and seen how the boats had 
gathered around us ; and when the cry of “ Papists’ ’ 
reached her ear, she at once gave orders to turn the 
barge’s head in that direction. It may be imagined 
that we were both astonished and alarmed to find 
ourselves in the presence of her Majesty, who from 
under the baldachino was looking at us with angry 
eyes. 

“What is all this about? What has happened ?” 
She inquired in no kindly tone of voice. The 
smaller boats that were around us immediately 
drew off, leaving us almost alongside of the royal 
barge. 

“Why does no one answer ?” continued the 
Queen with rising irritation. “What is this about 
Papists that I heard V 7 

Babington and I stood up in the boat to explain 
and excuse ourselves. Before we could utter a 
word, Elizabeth’s eye fell upon St. Barbe, and she 
exclaimed with some asperity : ‘ ‘ Why there is 
Walsingham’s nephew! In somewhat strange com- 
pany, methinks. Or are the gentlemen perhaps 
not Papists after all, who were holding a pious 
conversation with the pretty birds in yonder cage ? 
Fie, fie, what would your worthy uncle say to this? 
And our beloved Judith Cecil here, the great Burgh- 
ley’s fair daughter, who, if our eyes have not 
deceived us, gave St. Barbe the foremost place 
among her many adorers ? Look at your faithless 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 151 


knight, good Judith, and look too at the fascinating 
Circe, who, it appears, has bewitched him.” 

“Your Majesty seems to overrate my influence 
very much. — I should rather ask the members of 
your Court how it is that this young gentleman 
prefers his present companions to them,” replied 
the girl addressed, who was a more decided beauty 
than Elizabeth was wont to tolerate about her 
person, and whom on this account precisely she 
delighted in annoying. 

The Queen cast a sinister glance at the girl, 
who had spoken with a dignified indifference of 
manner. “Very flattering for the gentlemen and 
ladies of our Court, and for ourselves,” she 
rejoined. “Fie, Miss Cecil! Were it not for the 
services your father, our incomparable Lord 
High Treasurer, renders us, we should feel tempted 
to assign you a chamber in yonder Clink, where 
you would have leisure to study manners for a 
week or two ! But we are f orgetting what we came 
here for, you, little man there, you shall tell us 
what has happened. You, at any rate, will invent 
no lies. So tell us at once what is your name, 
who are the people with you, and what was this 
commotion about % ? ’ 

Frith stood, cap in hand ; his fair, curly hair 
tossed about his rosy, childish face, his honest 
blue eyes looking gravely but fearlessly at the 
Queen. He told us afterwards, that he should 
have liked to reproach her for having imprisoned 
and put to death so many priests, but something 
seemed to bid him refrain from doing so, and he 
therefore answered her questions quite simply. 


152 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“My name is Frith Bellamy, and I live at 
Castle Woxindon, not very far from here, the other 
side of St. John’s Wood. When yon get to the 
beech tree at the cross-roads you must keep to the 
right, for the road to the left takes to the village of 
Harrow. ’ ’ 

“You tell me that, in case I should pay you a 
visit, ” said the Queen, laughingly. The maids of 
honour tittered audibly, all but Mistress Cecil, 
whose features did not relax. The boy was quite 
offended at the amusement his words excited, he 
went on, addressing her Majesty: “Oh, several 
monarchs have been in our house, and my great- 
grandfather, whose name was Frith also, died 
at Bosworth for your predecessors, fighting against 
Richard III. If your Majesty condescends to visit 
us, I must beg you will come without these ladies, 
who laugh at what I say.” 

“Well said, youngster,” rejoined the Queen, 
who seemed to be favourably impressed by the 
child’s speech, and spoke more kindly to him. 
“Your wishes shall be respected. Row tell me 
who the others are ; that young lady is probably 
your sister.” 

“Yes, your Majesty, her name is Anne. I 
have another sister, who is called Mary.” 

“And which is the favourite sister!” asked 
the Queen, toying with a massive gold chain that 
hung round her neck. 

“I am very fond of both. When I want to 
romp, I like Anne best ; when the time comes for 
learning my lessons and my prayers, I like Mary 
best.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 153 


Elizabeth next inquired, who the gentlemen 
were in the boat. 

“This one with the gay cloak and fine doublet 
is Mr. Babington ; I like him very much ; he drew 
ever so many soldiers and huntsmen for me on card- 
board ; Anne painted them, and I helped cut them 
out. That gentleman is Mr. Windsor ; I have not 
known him long, but still I like him, for he has 
just given me a feast of cakes and wine, and these 
beautiful golden fruits, we have none like them in 
our garden . 79 So saying the child took an orange 
out of his pocket which I had slipped in, and held 
it out to the Queen, who was evidently amused at 
his prattle. “The other two gentlemen I never 
saw till just now, I do not know their names. The 
big one is grave, but the little one makes jokes; he 
told me I ought to be Archbishop of Canterbury. ” 

“By my troth, Sir Christopher Hatton, you 
might learn from this little lad how the Master of 
Ceremonies should present people to his Sovereign! 
He does not only tell us the names and titles, but 
the capacities and qualities of the individuals in 
question. ” 

Hatton laughed, and said that such plain 
speaking would be rather dangerous at Court, and 
was only fit for children and fools, who proverbial- 
ly speak the truth. However in virtue of his office 
he would give her Majesty a little additional in- 
formation respecting the persons thus informally 
presented. Thereupon he said a few words about 
our respective families, taking care to emphasize 
the fact, that we were two of the wealthy young 
Catholics, whose names had been mentioned lately 
■ at Court. 


154 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

The Queen frowned on hearing this, and looked 
anything but graciously at Babington and me. 
Babin gton, always more prompt at action than 
myself, hastened to make a profound obeisance, 
and declare that apart from his religious belief, he 
was ready to place his life and all that he had, at 
the disposal of his rightful sovereign. It was ap- 
parent that the good looking young cavalier, in his 
rich attire, found favour in the Queen’s eyes; her 
brow unbent, and she intimated it to be her pleas- 
ure that we should shortly wait upon her at Court. 
“Unless indeed,” she added with a sneer, “the 
gentlemen regard me as under the ban of the 
Pope, a rotten sheep to be avoided by the rest 
of the flock.” 

I was glad to see her address herself again to 
little Frith, who still stood there with his orange in 
one hand and his cap in the other. “You are prob- 
ably a Catholic too,” she said. “They will have 
taught you that I am excommunicate — confess it 
now! ” 

“What does excommunicate mean 1 ?” asked 
the child. 

‘ ‘Accursed ! given over to the devil ! ” 

“Nobody ever said anything like that to me,” 
Frith replied. “I pray for you every day, and I 
have often been told that I must be your Majesty’s 
loyal subject when I grow up to be a man, and 
must fight for you in battle, as my ancestors did. 
Not long ago Cousin Page came to collect voluntary 
subscriptions for the fleet against Spain; grand- 
mother gave £10 out of her annuity, and father 
and we all gave money. I put in half a crown out 
of my savings box.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 155 


“That was very generous of yon. Perhaps 
you would give me your beautiful golden apple, as 
you call it, if I were to ask you for it.” 

There was a momentary hesitation on Frith’ s 
part, and the Queen, who was observing him nar- 
rowly, was opening her lips to make some sarcastic 
remark, when the boy, quietly coming to a de- 
cision, rejoined: “Right willingly. Here, catch it; 
it would be a pity if it fell into the river.” 

So saying he threw the orange ; it fell at the 
Queen’s feet. “I have another, would your Ma- 
jesty like that too? If not, I will take it home 
for my grandmother and sister, they can divide it 
between them.” 

“You meant this one too for them, which 
you have given me, did you not?” inquired the 
Queen. “You are a good boy, Frith Bellamy. 
We must consider presently how to reward you. 
But now tell us what went on here, before we came 
on the scene.” 

“Nothing very much. Do you see the fourth 
window in the row under the eaves? There is a 
man looking out at us; that is my dear Uncle 
Robert; he is put in there because he went to 
mass. Anne and I wanted to ask him how he 
was, but the watchmen came down with their 
spikes and halberds, and a number of boats 
began to surround us, and the people called out 
that we were papists, as they always do, when 
they want to insult us. That was all; now may 
it please your Majesty to do us the great favour 
of letting my uncle go free. He did nothing 
wrong ; and it is a wretched thing to be shut up in 
prison, as I found last night in Newgate.” 


156 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“What, you in Newgate! Were you placed 
under arrest? I must hear all about that/’ ex- 
claimed Elizabeth. 

Then Frith told his tale, much as he told it 
to us, the Queen meanwhile sometimes laughing, 
sometimes chiding. When he had ended, she 
said: “With regard to your uncle’s release, we 
cannot decide the matter at once, but must take 
counsel with our advisers. As for your reward, 
however, we can tell you now what that is to 
be : You shall come to Court and be my Page 
of honour. I myself will see to it that you are 
brought up as a pious Christian and a faithful 
adherent of the Crown. I can discern in you 
valuable qualities of head and heart, and I do 
not want them spoilt by popish rubbish, or hid- 
den away in some country house. You shall come 
with us immediately: climb up onto our barge.” 

The boy looked frightened and clung to his 
sister; and I confess it sent a pang to my heart 
to think of the difficulties and hard struggles 
that lay before him, if he was to keep true to 
his faith. But there was no gainsaying the 
Queen’s will. He could do nothing more than 
ask for a respite, and this w r e obtained, by repre- 
senting to her Majesty that the child’s father 
lay dead, and entreating that he might be per- 
mitted to return home, in order to attend the obse- 
quies, and also that his outfit might be prepared. 
The Queen granted this at last, though somewhat 
ungraciously, and not until w T e had pledged our 
word that the boy should be sent to Court. More- 
over she laid injunctions on St. Barbe to see that 
her commands were carried out. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 157 


Long before this conversation came to an end, 
the Queen’s attendants, and the ladies and gentle- 
men of her suite, who were following on about a 
dozen gaily decorated boats, had arrived on the 
scene. They, like ourselves, exj>erienced some 
trouble to keep from drifting further, and thus 
getting in front of the royal barge, which no one 
was allowed to do. A large concourse of spec- 
tators had assembled on the banks, eager to seethe 
Queen and to hear what was going on. They 
waved their hats and cheered the Queen quite 
lustily; presently someone found out that we were 
papists, and cries of “No Popery!” mingled with 
the shouts. Some voices cried “Hurrah for our 
Virgin Queen!” others were so bold as to bid her 
marry, and give a Protestant heir to the throne. 
Elizabeth had already evinced displeasure when 
this suggestion had been made to her by Par- 
liament; to hear it from the lips of the populace 
aroused her anger, and she gave orders for the 
oarsmen to proceed. 

And while the royal barge moved on its 
stately course down the Thames, amid the peal 
of bells from the church steeples, and a salute 
from the Tower guns, we too turned, and rowed 
rapidly homewards, after Frith and Anne had 
waved a farewell greeting to their uncle. 

Now that the gentle reader has become ac- 
quainted with St. Barbe, or as we now call him, 
Brother Anselm, we will let him take up the nar- 
rative, and relate in his own words the events of 
his life, and speak of his connection with his uncle, 
Secretary Walsingham, and with Lord Burghley’s 
fair daughter Judith. 


CHAPTER XII. 


Brother Anselm appears in his early character of an ardent 
Puritan and a diplomatist of no mean powers. 

I am now about to relate my history, such 
as it is, or rather the record of God’s mercies 
towards me, unworthy as I am of His grace. I 
do this, not only because our Rev. Father Guar- 
dian has enjoined it upon me in virtue of holy 
obedience, but for my own humiliation on the 
one hand, and on the other for the praise and 
honour of the triune God; “unto the praise of 
the glory of His grace” (Eph. 1, 6.) to quote the 
words of St. Paul, who himself persecuted the 
people of God, until he was converted by the light 
from on high. 

It will be well, more in explanation than in 
excuse of after events, to begin by saying a few 
words about my youth, which was by no means a 
happy one. 

I was born in the year of grace 1559, the second 
year of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, on St. John Bap- 
tist’s day; on the very day, observe, fixed by Par- 
liament for the abrogation of the mass, “the idol- 
atrous” mass, as it was termed, throughout Eng- 
land ; the adoption of the new liturgy or divine 
service as appointed by the Queen, being then made 
compulsory. I need not say whether that day was 
to be considered fortunate or unfortunate, dies fas- 
tus or nefastus! My unhappy parents, on whose 
souls may God have mercy, had been schismatics 
under Henry VIII, reformed under Edward VI, 
(158) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 159 


Catholics under Mary; consequently under Eliz- 
abeth they conformed to the new regulations. In 
this respect they acted like the majority of the 
English nobles, and it is to be hoped that they did 
not fully know what they were doing. I was bap- 
tized according to the new ritual, for the pastor of 
my native place in Kent had chosen to conform, in 
order to escape the heavy fines or imprisonment 
which were the penalty of disobedience, and the 
name of Francis was given me. I rejoice to think 
that our holy Father of Assisi took me under his 
protection, although I was not named after him, 
but after my uncle, Sir Francis Walsingham, who 
had been a fellow student with my father at King’ s 
College, Cambridge, and married his sister, my 
aunt. My father had also married Walsingham’ s 
only sister, so the connection was twofold. 

When I was about four years old, my parents 
were both carried off, within a few days of one 
another, by an epidemic that visited our home in 
Kent. It is a great consolation to me to know that 
a faithful servant fetched one of the old priests to 
them on their death bed, for I have every reason to 
hope that they made their peace with God before 
quitting this life. My education was confided by 
my Uncle Walsingham, who was also my guardian, 
to astern Calvinist, who early infused into my youth- 
ful mind a profound hatred of the Pope and of the 
Catholic Church. I heard the Holy Father desig- 
nated as Antichrist, the Cardinals and Bishops as 
a brood of devils ; while Priests were called min- 
isters of Baal, and the Church of Borne herself was 
denominated the harlot of Babylon. I too, in my 


160 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

ignorance, took these names upon my lips, for 
which may God forgive me ! My teacher did not 
scruple to apply these and other yet more oppro- 
brious epithets to Dr. Martin Luther, to Zwingli, 
to the Anglican bishops, to every one, in fact, 
whose tenets were not precisely those of the 
Genevan Apostle. But his fiercest invectives were 
reserved for the late Queen Mary, whom he called 
by the foulest names. During her reign some of 
his relatives or friends had perished at the stake on 
account of their obstinate adherence to the Calvin- 
istic heresy. Thus he continued to fill my youth- 
ful imagination with darksome images, and my 
heart with antipathy and detestation towards 
everything Catholic, until I began to think the 
Christian religion was a religion not of love but of 
hatred. Another object of his special aversion was 
the Queen of Scots, on account of the stand she had 
made against John Knox and the Scottish Reform- 
ers; he rejoiced when she fell into Elizabeth’s 
hands, and was by her placed in captivity. That 
was in the summer of 1568 ; I yet remember the 
day when the tidings reached us in Kent, for in 
honour of the joyous event I had a whole holiday 
given me, a most unheard of privilege. 

After I had left this tutor, whose name charity 
forbids me to mention, and in whose heart I pray 
the seed of grace may be sown in return for the evil 
he implanted in mine, I was sent to King’s College, 
Cambridge, where my father and uncle had been. 
Whilst there I did not hear the same vehement 
abuse of the Catholic Church, though I heard little 
said in her favour. The ideas, however, which my 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 1G1 


tutor had led me to form of the Anglican Establish- 
ment and the bishops appointed by Elizabeth, were 
greatly modified and altered. I considered it to be 
a Christian and true church, although for myself I 
still clung to what appeared to me a purer and bet- 
ter creed than that of the Puritans, who were so 
called because they had purged away all the errors 
of Popery. I passed through the usual course of 
classical study without distinguishing myself in 
any way, and was then placed by my uncle witli a 
barrister in the Temple to study civil law. Some- 
what later I was sent to Paris, more perhaps with 
a view of learning the French language, than for 
the sake of attending the lectures on jurisprudence 
at the University. Whilst I was there my uncle 
obtained for me the post of secretary to the English 
ambassador, one which he himself had formerly 
filled, and I began to tread the smooth and slip- 
pery paths of diplomacy. 

I cannot say that my residence in Paris tended 
to give me a better opinion of the Catholic Church. 
Henry III, who was then upon the throne, was a 
slav3 to his passions ; his mother, the famous Cath- 
erine de Medici, did not do her religion much 
credit, and the Court imitated the royal example 
only too faithfully. To this was added the fierce 
hatred against the Huguenots, which was intensi- 
fied by the war and by the massacre of St. Barthol 
omew. I used to attend a Calvinistic conventicle, 
where the forcible language employed by the 
preachers recalled the utterances of my tutor in 
early days. We had orders from Elizabeth through 
Lord Burghley, to foment by every means in our 


162 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

power the religions strife in France, as well as the 
insurrection in the Netherlands, since England had 
nothing to fear, while they lasted, from the two 
great Catholic powers of which she stood in dread. 
I was then initiated into not a few intrigues and 
underhand practices. Only on the day when all 
secrets are revealed, will it be made known to what 
expedients the politician will resort for the purpose 
of attaining the end he has in view. And yet the 
very persons who acted in this manner, reproached 
the Jesuits with taking it as their principle, that 
the end justifies the means! 

When the Duke d’ Alem^on, one of the King’s 
brothers, was in treaty for Elizabeth’s hand, and 
travelled to London with a grand retinue, I was 
chosen to accompany him. The Duke was twenty- 
four years old, the Queen twice his age ; and I con- 
fess I blushed for my Sovereign when I saw her 
behaving like a young maiden towards her youth- 
ful suitor. But my Uncle Walsingham explained 
to me that the marriage of the Queen to a French 
prince was expedient as the only means of counter- 
acting the power of Spain, which was increased by 
an alliance with Portugal. I was present at the 
banquet w hich the Lord Treasurer gave atBurghley 
House on the 30th of April 1581, in honour of the 
distinguished guest. 

That day was a memorable one for me, because 
I then for the first time saw Judith Cecil, Lord 
Burghley’s daughter, who later on, in the Provi- 
dence of God was to exercise a most beneficial in- 
fluence over me. My uncle directed my attention 
to this rich heiress. My fortune, he told me, was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 163 


not equal to my birth, and he would not have much 
to bequeath to me, as he had not amassed wealth 
in the service of his sovereign. His colleague 
Burghley, on the contrary, had been enriched by the 
acquisition of large estates on the confiscation of 
the church property. Of course the number of 
aspirants for the hand of his daughter was not 
small, but that must not deter me from attempting 
to win the prize* as he saw no reason why I should 
not be successful. In fact my grave and sedate 
manner might perchance prove an attraction to the 
girl, whose own demeanour was quiet and reserved. 
Nothing moreover would give him greater satisfac- 
tion than the match. 

Walsingham’s wish was tantamount to a com- 
mand for me. But when once I had seen the lovely 
maiden, I needed no urging on his part to induce 
me to approach her. During my presence in Lon- 
don I often had occasion to go to Lord Burghley 7 s 
house on official business, and thus the opportunity 
was afforded me of seeing his daughter at a time 
when she was not surrounded with a crowd of ad- 
mirers. Our conversation generally turned upon 
serious topics, often questions of a religious and 
philosophical nature were discussed by us. Her 
clear intelligence detected the inconsistency involv- 
ed in Calvin’s terrible doctrine of predestination ; 
she was the first to point it out to me. In vain 
did I seek to find a flaw in her reasoning ; the doc- 
trine of free will, which she expounded to me, ap- 
peared far more just and right; but how astonished 
I was, when, at a subsequent period, I discovered 
that the arguments she used were in accordance 


164 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

with the teachings of the Catholic Church which I 
held in such horror! It was after my return to 
Paris that I found this out, and I immediately 
wrote to Judith Cecil, Informing her that her views 
on the subject of predestination were those held by 
the Papists, and warning her, lest she should be 
ensnared by them to her eternal destruction. This 
was not the only theological love letter I addressed 
to her, and her answers to them were such as would 
have taxed a cleverer hand than mine to refute. 

In the mean time we were not idle at the em- 
bassy. Through the reports of spies it had become 
known to us that the Duke of Guise was planning 
an invasion of England, in view of liberating Mary 
Stuart, to whom he was related, placing her upon 
the throne of England which belonged to her by 
right, and re-establishing the Catholic religion by 
force of arms. In imagination I saw the fires of 
Smithfield re-kindled, of which I had been told in 
my childhood, and I knew that the victims would 
be taken from those whom I counted my best 
friends. We therefore, made every exertion to 
avert the catastrophe. I was despatched in all 
haste to London. In consequence of the informa- 
tion I gave, Francis Throgmorton’s house was 
searched, and in it the whole plan of the invasion 
was discovered. After that the Queen received me 
very graciously, and Lord Burghley distinguished 
me with so many marks of his favour, that I was 
generally regarded as his future son-in-law, the 
more so, because his daughter made no secret of her 
liking for me. This, together with the conviction 
that I had been the means of unmasking traitors to 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 165 


their country, prevented me from grieving, as I 
should otherwise have done, over the bloodshed 
that followed the discovery of the plot. Unfortun- 
ately, a considerable number of innocent priests 
were sacrificed on that occasion, whose blood may 
God not lay to my charge. 

The Spanish ambassador, Don Bernardino de 
Mendoza was also implicated in the plot ; he was 
compelled to leave London at once. The King of Spain 
appointed him to the post of ambassador in Paris, 
and it was natural to suppose that he would lose no 
opportunity of revenging himself on Elizabeth and 
Burghley for his abrupt and ignominious dismissal. 
My uncle gave me instructions to watch Mendoza 
narrowly, and sent over some of his most experi- 
enced spies to work under my orders. Before long 
we got wind of a new design, of which, as it 
appeared, the King of Spain was this time the 
originator. This was hardly to be wondered at 
for Elizabeth had sent forces under the command 
of Leicester to aid the insurgents in the Nether- 
lands, and the English fleet under Sir Francis 
Drake was laying waste the coast of Galicia and 
the Spanish colonies in the West Indies. But we 
were unable to learn anything further about this 
design, until the wrenched apostate Gifford came to 
our help. About this man a few words must now 
be said, which will lead up to the subject of 
Babington’s conspiracy. 

Gilbert Gifford, belonged to one of the best 
families in Staffordshire. For the sake of the 
Catholic faith, his father had been reduced from 
opulence to penury, and had spent long years in 


166 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OE WOXINDON. 

prison. In order to secure a Catholic education 
for his son, a lad of remarkable talent, he sent him 
across the Channel, at the risk of incuring a severe 
penalty, to the seminary founded at Douay by 
Dr. Allen. The fact that the boy early evinced, 
besides considerable mental gifts, an unruly dispo- 
sition, a frivolous character, and an utter indiffer- 
ence to religion, may have determined the father to 
confide his training to Catholic priests. He was 
removed by the hand of death before he had the 
sorrow of seeing how vain had been all his care 
on behalf of his son. In the class room Gilbert 
easily distanced his fellow pupils ; and when the 
seminary was removed from Douay to Rheirns, he was 
appointed Professor of Philosophy, although only 
twenty years of age. His lectures were admirable, 
but his morals left so much to be desired that after 
repeated admonitions and chastisements, his supe- 
riors threatened him with expulsion from the 
seminary. Thereupon he ran away, taking with 
him a sum of money which the Duke of Guise had 
given him as a benefaction to the seminary. In Paris, 
whither he betook himself, the misappropriated 
money was quickly squandered in riotous living. 
Like the Prodigal, he began to be in want; but he 
did not, like the Prodigal, return in contrition to his 
father saying: I have sinned before Heaven and 
before thee. On the contrary, the unhappy young 
man took another step on the downward road ; he 
gave up his religion, and plunged into the abyss of 
unbelief. 

Such were the circumstances in which Gifford 
found himself, when I accidentally made his 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 167 


acquaintance about the now year 1586. We had 
met in a tavern, and hearing who I was, he had 
requested the host to introduce him to me, as a 
fellow-countryman of good family. As he was well, 
almost elegantly dressed, and knew very well how 
to behave, I invited him to sit down at my table, 
near to a warm fire. At first our conversation was 
on general topics, the state of England, the last 
news from the Low Countries ; but presently, after 
casting more than once a cautious glance around 
him, to ascertain whether there was any one who 
understood English near enough to overhear us, he 
drew his seat closer, and said he wanted to say a 
word to me in confidence. He then offered his 
services to me as a spy. No one he asserted, could 
be found better able to serve England in this 
capacity than himself, since he came of an old 
Catholic family, and had the highest references, 
which would ensure him admittance to the salons 
of the Spanish ambassador, of Charles Paget, the 
exiled Archbishop of Glasgow, and gain for him 
the acquaintance of Thomas Morgan and other 
partisans of Mary Stuart. Provided, we would 
promise him the same remuneration which Wal- 
singhain’s other spies received, we should have 
every reason to be content with the service he 
would render us. 

I declared myself willing, at least to test his 
ability to serve us, and gave him a few sovereigns 
in advance. It was agreed between us, that we 
should meet at the same place a week hence, for it 
would have been imprudent in the highest degree 
for him to be seen at the English embassy, since 


168 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

that would awaken the suspicions of Mary Stuart’s 
party. We then parted. I cannot say how dis- 
tasteful to me was intercourse with such traitors. 
It was, however, unavoidable, for the statesmanship 
of these days consisted to a great extent in the 
employment of these men, contemptible as they 
were in every respect. My uncle Walsingham 
himself expended enormous sums out of his private 
purse on these vile spies. There were more than 
a hundred in his pay, and the most valuable, 
although the most despicable of these were apos- 
tates and even fallen priests. The knowledge of 
this led me to form a very low opinion of the 
Popish clergy ; I did not remember the old saying : 
corruptio optimi pessima; the higher the state, the 
more terrible the fall from it. 

To make a long story short, Gifford showed 
himself to be a practised deceiver, for in a brief 
period he wormed himself into the confidence of 
the Archbishop of Glasgow and of Thomas Morgan. 
The latter had been a primary factor in the first 
scheme for liberating the Queen of Scots, and 
Elizabeth would gladly have sent him to the gallows. 
But he slipped through her Majesty’s fingers, and 
escaped to Paris ; Elizabeth sent the Order of the 
Garter to Henry III., in order to induce him to 
surrender the conspirator to her, and the king, not 
daring to comply w r ith her demand, yet desirous to 
show himself her friend, consigned him to the 
Bastille. This did not prevent him from taking- 
part in all the intrigues set on foot in behalf of 
Mary Stuart, for the French policy at that time, 
was to play a double game. Gifford shrewdly 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 169 


guessed that Morgan was the chief concocter of the 
new plot, and so artfully did he dissemble and 
deceive him, that he was soon in possession of 
important facts. His method was to act the part 
of a zealous Catholic, and feign an enthusiastic 
attachment to the Queen of Scots. He even 
devised a crafty plan whereby letters could be 
conveyed to her without the knowledge of her 
jailer. As the partisans of the royal captive 
desired above all things to find some means of 
carrying on a secret correspondence with her, 
Gifford appeared to Morgan in the light of an 
auxiliary sent by Heaven. He furnished him with 
letters of recommendation to Chateauneuf, the 
French ambassador in London, who had hitherto 
refused to comply with the request that he would 
convey letters to the Queen of Scots. Mendoza 
was in like manner deceived ; he too trusted the 
hypocrite, who simulated the utmost devotion to 
the Catholic cause, and whom the more cautious 
Morgan had already taken into his confidence. 

Thus by the beginning of March Gifford was 
able to give me the particulars of two plots to 
effect the release of the Queen of Scots, which were 
already being carried out to some extent. Of these 
one was the work of a certain Mr. Babington, who 
had gathered around him a few young Catholic 
noblemen with whose co-operation he hoped to set 
the Queen free by some coup de main . This same 
Babington had been in Paris in February, and had 
been carrying on negotiations with Morgan and other 
of the exiles. But the whole thing seemed very 
vague, and savoured more of a boyish adventure 


170 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

than a serious enterprise. During his sojourn in 
Paris Babington had spent more time on the amuse- 
ments of the carnival than preparations for a polit- 
ical action, although he had been in communication 
with the Duke of Guise. — The other project was 
of far greater moment; Philip II. was at last pre- 
paring in earnest for a descent upon England. 
The Prince of Parma was appointed leader of the 
expedition, and the other arrangements were now 
being concluded ; Mary Stuart’s hand was promised 
to the Prince, and in order to concert operations 
with the captive Princess, her friends were desirous 
to make use of the method of communicating with 
her, which Gifford had suggested. 

This information appeared to me so trust- 
worthy and so important, that I forthwith despatched 
a special messenger to carry it in cipher to my 
uncle Walsingham. By the same messenger he 
sent me back word, to come to London, without 
my departure being known, if possible, and to 
bring Gifford with me. This I did in the com- 
mencement of April. 



CHAPTER XIII. 


Sir Francis Walsingham allows his nephew St. Barbe to see 
his hand in the game he is playing. 

On my arrival in London , Walsingham be- 
stowed on me great praise for the wisdom I had 
shown in this most important business. He told 
me that the services I had rendered to her Ma- 
jesty’s government and to the Protestant religion 
in England were more considerable than I was 
aware of, and that if I assisted him in bringing 
the intrigue, he had then in hand to a successful 
conclusion with equal prudence and sagacity, he 
would prevail upon her Majesty to confer upon 
me the honour of knighthood and make me a mem- 
ber of the Privy Council. He added that I might 
also reckon confidently upon obtaining the favour 
of the omnipotent Lord Burghley and the hand of 
his charming daughter. 

After these introductory remarks, he took me 
into his own private cabinet, to which until then I 
had but rarely been admitted, carefully closed the 
door, and bade me take a seat by the fire, in front 
of which he pushed a small table. On this he 
placed two finely cut glasses, filling them with old 
crushed port from a decanter that he took out of a 
cupboard in the wall. He then seated himself be- 
side me, and sipping from time to time the gener- 
ous liquor with evident appreciation of its fine 
flavour, spoke thus to me: “Your health, my dear 
Francis. It has long been my habit when I have 
any specially important business to consider, to 
( 171 ) 


172 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

drink a glass of this old port — only one glass, and 
that slowly. And yon would do well to do the 
same. It quickens ones pulses, and you cannot 
think how many fortunate inspirations I owe to it. 
Well, we have an important matter to consider 
now. You will not be surprised when I tell you, 
that* from the standpoint of a loyal Englishman and 
a zealous partisan of the Reformation, I consider 
Mary Stuart as our most dangerous enemy. ” 

With this I concurred, for since her right as 
the granddaughter of Henry VII. to the throne of 
England was indisputable, and considering Eliz- 
abeth’s age it could hardly any longer be hoped 
that she would marry, still less have any legitimate 
issue, the probability was that Mary would succeed 
her, and thereby the maintenance of the reformed 
religion be imperilled. I said as much to my 
uncle, who listened patiently and then replied : 

u l do not think there is much cause for 
anxiety on that score. Burghley has taken good 
care that Mary’s fair name should be tarnished 
with a blot of which — whether she is innocent or 
not — the English Parliament can make use for the 
purpose of setting aside her right, that you con- 
sider indisputable. Our Parliament has brought 
more difficult things to pass than that during the 
last half century. Xo, the only chance Mary 
Stuart has of ascending the throne would be by a 
successful rising of the Catholics within the coun- 
try, or through the invasion of a foreign power, on 
support of her claims. The first contingency is no 
longer to be dreaded. The case was very different 
eighteen years ago, when the Pope deposed Eliz- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 173 


abeth, and the most influential lords in the North 
took up arms. The fate of the new Queen and the 
new religion then hung upon a thread. Burghley 
completely lost his head, and the hour of peril 
showed him to be nothing of a statesman, however 
clever he maybe as an intriguer. If Alba had ap- 
peared off the coast of Yorkshire at that juncture 
with half a dozen galleons, and landed a regiment 
of his redoubtable Spaniards, Mary Stuart would 
now be Queen, and the Smithfield fires would blaze 
afresh. That danger was happily averted, con- 
trary to all expectations, and the deluded insurrec- 
tionists, by order of the Queen, who on this occa- 
sion proved herself to be a true daughter of Henry 
VIII., expiated their folly with their lives. Whole 
villages were depopulated. Since that time every 
year renders it less probable that such a rising 
would end in aught but failure. The number 
of Catholics has melted away ; only in Lancashire 
and some of the northern counties, are they a 
small majority, and the nobles who still cling to 
the old creed, are gradually being ruined by enorm- 
ous fines. Very soon all the wealthy Papists will 
be reduced to beggary. 

Far more cause have we for alarm concerning 
the other danger that threatens us. As long as 
Mary Stuart is alive, our Popish fellow-country- 
men will exert themselves to bring about a Span- 
ish invasion. You remember the conspiracy of 
Kidolfi. Two years ago a scheme was afloat of a 
similar nature ; now for the third time we are men- 
aced by the same danger, and in a worse shape 
than heretofore. Once more I repeat: we shall 


174 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

never enjoy tranquillity as long as Mary Stuart 
is a prisoner in England. Hence her death be- 
comes a political necessity. ” 

Wal singli am uttered the last words in a low 
tone, but with deliberation and emphasis. He 
then raised his glass to his lips again, and silence 
prevailed until I remarked : 

“Uncle, you said, ‘as long as she is a prisoner 
in England’. Supposing she were set at liberty*?” 

“She would have been set at liberty long 
ago,” he rejoined, “if she would have agreed to 
two conditions, the surrender of her claim to the 
throne, and the adoption of the reformed religion. 
During eighteen years of captivity the foolish 
woman has obstinately refused to do either the 
one or the other; the first through love for her 
son, who certainly repays her maternal affection in 
the most exemplary manner ; the second on account 
of that inconceivable fanaticism which few but 
Papists display. You will live to see Henry of 
Navarre turn his back on Calvin and go piously 
to mass, though he now denounces it as an abom- 
inable idolatry. If Mary Stuart had adopted the 
tenets of Knox, the Lords of the Covenant would 
have held her to be a virtuous Queen, even were 
she in reality guilty of her husband’s murder, 
which those worthy nobles laid to her charge. 
And if she had abjured Popery when in England, 
she might perchance have been raised to the throne. 
In a word, she has rejected the conditions on which 
her liberty was offered her, and they cannot be dis- 
pensed with. If she were released and sent to 
Scotland, we should be placing her son, who is a 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXJNDON. 175 


Protestant and our ally, in a most difficult posi- 
tion. Fourteen years ago, when Morton was 
regent, the Lords of the Covenant demanded her 
surrender ; they would have taken her into custody 
on the frontier, tried and executed her forthwith. 
But the proposal came to nothing, because of the 
somewhat extravagant demands of these godly folk, 
and the parsimoniousness of our Queen. A few 
thousand pounds might then have secured England 
and the Reformation from all further fear on ac- 
count of Mary Stuart. But Elizabeth wanted to do 
things more cheaply, bad policy, in my opinion. 
Thus Scotland is out of the question as a home for 
her ; still more France or Spain. Her death is the 
only solution of the difficulty. 7 ’ 

The words of Caiphas occurred to my mind 
as I listened to my uncle. But I remembered 
that shortly after her flight to England, the 
Queen of Scots had been pronounced guilty by 
the Judicial Court at Westminster of complicity 
in the murder of Darnley; and the hatred to her, 
implanted in my mind in my boyish days, led 
me to say that she ought to be condemned and ex- 
ecuted. Walsingham looked at me sarcastically as 
he sipped his wine. 

“Undoubtedly , 77 he replied. “There are, it is 
true, some legal niceties, but an able diplomat 
need not let them stand in his way. Burghley 
represented to the Queen long since that it would 
be well in self-defence to make short work with 
her detested rival. Justice would warrant such a 
measure ; and deeds of that nature are, God 
knows, of no infrequent occurrence in the annals 


176 THE WONDEKFUL FLOWEK OF WOXINPON. 

of our country. The Queen would only be too 
well pleased, that is, of course she would openly 
feign great indignation, and send the executor of 
her secret wishes to the gallows as his reward, 
in public testimony to her innocence. She has 
not learnt in vain in the school of Machiavelli. 
No one has however as yet been found to carry 
out her wishes. Last autumn the prisoner was 
consigned to the charge of a fresh jailer, Sir 
Amias Paulet, a rough fellow, who hates her 
with the hate of hell. I know on good authority 
that he was informed of the Queen’s desire. But 
the man is either too honourable or too prudent ; 
he declared that if they sent the hangman to him 
with a warrant signed and sealed, he would make 
him welcome and leave him free to perform his 
duty. But it was no use to talk to him about 
such wishes, since he would neither carry them 
out himself nor depute another to do so, as long 
as Mary Stuart was in his custody. Thus we 
should be no nearer our end now than we were eigh- 
teen years ago, but for some young Popish noble- 
men who are playing into our hands.” 

I looked up in surprise, and my uncle con- 
tinued, a slight smile playing round his lips : 
“We have to thank you, my dear Frank, for 
putting us on the track of a delightful little con- 
spiracy. Acting upon the information you gave 
me, I took steps to ascertain what truth there was 
in the statements made by Gifford — who appears a 
most useful fellow — in respect to Mr. Babington. 
It proved to be a fact that he and half-a-dozen 
young noblemen of his own age and Papists like 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 177 


himself , have formed a league with the object of 
liberating Mary Stuart. They hold their meetings 
at the Blue Boar in St. Giles-in-the-fields. This 
was notified to me some months ago ; but I thought 
they were so young and so gay. that they only met 
for their sports, and could do no worse mischief 
than perhaps render assistance to some of the sem- 
inary priests and Jesuits who are prowling about. 
However I bade my spies to keep their eye on 
them, and I find Gifford is right, they are hatching 
a plot for the release of the Queen of Scots. It ap- 
pears to be a romantic sort of affair, for the good 
lads have not a spark of practical common sense 
amongst them. Look at Babington ; he is brave 
and venturesome enough, but how vain and frivol- 
ous ! Three or four others excel in sports, football 
and the like, and there are a couple of poets to 
boot. They have probably read in their school- 
books : Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori! and 
they think themselves called to heroic deeds. I am 
sorry for the silly fellows. Unless I help them, 
they will never attain the honour they covet. ” 

“Y-ou mean,” I said, “as soon as you have the 
necessary proofs, to arrest them and put them on 
the rack to make them confess, and so nip the con- 
spiracy in the bud.” 

‘ T should have expected more sense from you my 
dear Frank,” rejoined my uncle. “I have already 
told you, this conspiracy is a perfect godsend to us. 
Joking apart, I shall do everything I can to make 
it easy for these young gentlemen to carry out their 
project — up to a certain point, of course. Do you 
not see how it will be a means of bringing about 
the death of our enemy'?” 


178 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I thought for a moment, then I suggested that 
he should lay an ambush of armed men who would 
cut off their flight, and put them and the Queen to 
death. 

Walsingham smiled as he answered: “The 
same idea occurred to me. But I think we shall not 
let them go so far as that. Sir Amias Paulet has 
written orders from the Privy Council, in case of 
any attempt at escape, to take the life of his pris- 
oner at once. He has promised to do this, and he 
will keep his word without scruple. A sudden 
and violent death would not however look well for 
the Government. I should very much prefer that 
Mary Stuart should in forma juris be condemned 
to death before a tribunal composed of the first 
nobles of the land. That would give the matter a 
better appearance in the eyes of foreigners, and our 
own people could cast no reproach on the Govern- 
ment. Mr. Babington and his colleagues are going 
to help us to obtain such a judgment. Reach down 
the statute book of the last Parliament, and turn to 
the new enactment 27th of Elizabeth, concerning 
conspiracies against the life of the Queen. ”• 

I did as he desired, and read the statute which 
ordained, with every possible proviso, that every 
person who should participate in a conspiracy 
against Elizabeth’s life, was to be put on trial for 
his life before a Court of twenty-four Commis- 
sioners, to be nominated by the Crown. 

L 6 Every person, 7 7 Walsingham repeated. 4 ‘ What 
does that signify % What is the object of this new 
law % It was not wanted for the conviction of 
English subjects who conspire against the life of 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 179 

their Sovereign. The object is therefore to bring 
within reach of the headsman’s axe every person 
whatsoever, be their rank and prerogatives the 
highest. In a word, the bill was framed and passed 
to provide against the very contingency which we 
have been supposing. ’ ’ 

“A most wise and judicious measure,” I 
replied. “But there is no question now of a plot 
against Elizabeth’s life, only of Mary Stuart’s 
rescue. Moreover she appears, as far as we know, 
to be in ignorance of the existence of the con- 
spiracy.” 

“It is very plain, my dear Frank,” rejoined 
my uncle, “that you are not sufficiently well versed 
in the ways of Machiavelli. Do you really imagine 
that Mary Stuart, after eighteen years of captivity, 
unjust caj)tivity, knowing as she does that Eliza- 
beth has designs upon her life, would not repay her 
royal sister in the same coin, were the opportunity 
afforded her ? Doubtless she would authorize these 
young gentlemen to remove Elizabeth out of the 
way, if that were the only means of attaining her 
end. If proof were wanted, we need only appre- 
hend them, and put them to torture, and I will 
engage that as soon as they felt the thumbscrew, or 
found themselves in the embrace of the scavinger’s 
daughter, not to speak of the other pretty toys in 
the Tower, one or other of the six would soon con- 
fess that Mary Stuart was privy to their designs 
against Elizabeth. But we can manage without 
coming to the torture chamber. This Gifford, 
whom you brought with you from Paris, has devised 
a most ingenious plan for the exchange of letters 


180 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

between the conspirators and the captive Queen. 
If they fall into his trap, as I have no doubt they 
will, we shall be able, within the space of a few 
weeks, to produce in black and white ample proof 
of the complicity of Mary Stuart with Babington 
and his comrades in a plot against Elizabeth’s life. 
The matter appears to me perfectly certain. That 
is why I said that Babington’ s conspiracy exactly 
corresponded to my wishes. Now do you under- 
stand me ? ’ ’ 

I answered that I did, and that I admired my 
uncle’s acuteness. Of course I was heartily willing 
to co-operate with him, as the welfare of her Majesty 
and the stability of the reformed religion were at 
stake. We must adopt the maxim that the end 
justifies the means, and as this principle was learnt 
in the Jesuits’ school, we might console ourselves 
with the knowledge that we were turning their own 
weapons against them. My uncle laughed, and 
said he must confess he had never heard that saying 
from the lips of a Jesuit, but that every diplomat 
acted upon it, as nothing could be done in state- 
craft unless it were followed. 

Finally I asked him what he thought of Parma’s 
scheme, and what measures he intended to take 
against it. He shrugged his shoulders, and said 
the project might take definite shape, but not for 
some time yet. He had learnt through Cherelles, 
one of the French ambassador’s secretaries, that a 
packet of letters to Mary Stuart had long lain at 
the embassy awaiting delivery. These letters he 
hoped through Gifford, who was highly recommen- 
ded to the ambassador, to get into his own hands, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF AVOXINDON. 181 


and acquaint liimself with their contents. The best 
thing to be done at present was to get the Queen of 
Scots out of the way. That would completely take 
the wind out of their sails, and render a Spanish 
invasion little short of purposeless. Now, while 
Philip could hope to set Mary Stuart upon the 
throne, and to place the Prince of Parma by her 
side it was quite a different thing ; whereas were 
she once dead, a descent upon England would 
appear like reprisals, and it is highly questionable 
whether he would fit out his galleons for such a 
purpose. Philip was far too wise to attempt a war 
of conquest, or to dream of the possibility of placing 
the crown of England on the head of a Spanish 
prince. He would find he had opponents more 
difficult to deal with than the Dutch, though he 
had enough on his hands with them just then. 

“ What we have to do now,” he said in con- 
clusion, “is to carry out our design in regard to ttie 
Queen of Scots. The first step is for Gifford to lay 
his toils, in order to intercept the correspondence 
between Babington and the prisoner. # Then we will 
leave Babington and his friends to do their work ; 
they must be closely watched, but not allowed to 
suspect that their movements are observed. And 
when the right moment comes, the fowler will pull 
the string, and the six green finches, together with 
the royal bird, will be fluttering in his net. With 
ordinary prudence and determination we cannot 
fail of success.” 

So shying Walsingham filled our glasses again 
with the ruby coloured wine, and bade me drink to 
the prosperity of Babington’ s conspiracy, which 
was to bring about the end we desired. 


CHAPTER XTY. 

The reader is shown how the snare is laid, and is introduced 
to an “honest man”. 1 ) 

My uncle, whose custom it was to set his 
agents to watch one another, consigned the un- 
happy apostate Gifford to the charge of Thomas 
Philipps and Arthur Gregory, two spies, or mem- 
bers of his secret police, who lived in St. PauPs 
Churchyard. With them Gifford, who had been 
introduced to them under the name of Nicholas 
Cornelius, took up his abode, and they seldom let 
him out of their sight. Walsingham went to see 
him there one evening, carefully disguised, for he 
could not let him go to his own house. What was 
then concerted between them, I did not know until 
later. 

My uncle had already mentioned to me one of 
the secretaries of the French ambassador, named 
Cherelles, whom he had bribed, a young man, lead- 
ing a gay life, and head and ears in debt through 
gambling. He was one of those men who are 
ready to sell their own soul to the devil and their 
master’s secrets to his enemy for the sake of a 
handful of gold. Through him Walsingham learnt 
that Chateauneuf 2 ) had received instructions to 

J ) The brewer from the neighbouring town of Burton, 
between whom and Paulet it was arranged that he should 
deliver to Paulet every parcel he might receive either from 
Gifford to Mary, or vice versa , was known under the deris- 
ive soubriquet of the “honest man”. (Cfr. Lingard’s 
History of England, vol. vi, p. 200.) 

2 ) Cf. Hosack 1, c. ii, p. 322. 

( 182 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 183 

exert himself on behalf of Mary Stuart, as much as 
possible, without attracting observation and es- 
pecially to expedite her correspondence. The pri- 
vate secretary of the ambassador, Cordaillot by 
name, was intrusted with the interests of the royal 
captive, and the packet of letters of which Cher' 
elles had spoken, were in his safekeeping. Since 
the Qneen of Scots had been removed from Tut- 
bury to Chartley, and Sir Amias Paulet had re- 
placed Sir Ralph Sadler as her guardian, no letters 
had been permitted to reach her. What Wal sing- 
ham wanted Gifford to do was to obtain possession 
of these letters under the promise of forwarding 
them to Mary and then place them in his hands. For 
this his reward was to be £100. 

Gifford was introduced to Cordaillot by Cher- 
elles. His Catholic name, and the excellent recom- 
mendations he had brought from Paris, carried 
weight ; also the scheme he had concocted appeared 
feasible. Cordaillot spoke to his master in Gif- 
ford’s favour, and asked permission to entrust the 
letters to him. But M. de Chateauneuf was a very 
cautious man, and he distrusted Gifford. Therefore, 
after questioning him narrowly, he dismissed him 
with polite phrases, to the effect that he was glad 
to see a young man of good family displaying such 
zeal for the Catholic cause, and he would let him 
know if his services were required. For the pres- 
ent there was nothing of importance to be. for- 
warded. 

“What a fox the man is?” my uncle exclaim- 
ed, when Gifford communicated to him in writing 
the result of his first attempt. “At any rate, it 


184 THE WONDERFUL FLOAVER OF WOXINDON. 

proves to me that the letters are of the greatest 
consequence. Chateauneuf intends to send a mes- 
senger to Mendoza and Morgan, to convince him- 
self that the letters of recommendation are not for- 
geries. We must have patience for another week.” 

Walsingham’s surmise was correct. We heard 
from Cherelles that a messenger was despatched 
that very day to Paris; and about a week later 
Gifford was summoned to the embassy. The report 
must have been satisfactory, yet M. de Chateauneuf 
was too wary to commit himself to the proposed 
plan without a trial. He therefore gave Gifford a 
letter which compromised nobody, as it was merely 
an inquiry after the Queen of Scot’s health. This 
letter was opened by Arthur Gregory, and after a 
copy of it had been taken by Philipps, it was fast- 
ened again so skillfully that no one could have dis- 
cerned the least fault in the seal, for Gregory and 
Philipps were marvellously expert at such manip- 
ulation, and on that account their services were 
well remunerated. When my uncle read the letter, 
he exclaimed: “That is just what I expected, an 
experiment on Chateauneuf’ s part. Francis, you 
must ride to Chartley to-morrow and give Sir 
Amias Paulet my instructions. Gifford can go by 
another road with one of my people and try his 
luck.” 

Accordingly the next day I started on my way. 
The distance to Chartley, which is on the borders 
of Staffordshire and Derbyshire, not far from Bur- 
ton-on-Trent, is 130 miles, so that it took me two 
days hard riding, to get there. As Walsingham’s 
nephew I was well received by Sir Amias, uncivil 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 185 


though he was at his best. He asked me whether 
at last I was bringing her Majesty’s command that 
the head of the Moabitish woman, who angered his 
just soul with her idolatries, was to fall by the 
executioner’s axe? And on my replying in the 
negative, he grumbled and snarled like the old 
bear that he was. When I explained that my com- 
ing and Walsingham’s message were to prepare the 
way for what he desired, his temper improved a 
little. I proceeded to tell him of the trap that was 
to be laid for his prisoner, and that as soon as we 
had obtained proof in writing that she had designs 
upon Elizabeth’s life, she would be arraigned be- 
fore a criminal court, in accordance with the new 
statute. At that he looked well pleased ; however 
he paced to and fro in the room muttering to him- 
self for a while, then he stopped in front of me and 
said : 

“Mr. St. Barbe, you must know that all these 
tricks and stratagems to which diplomatists like 
your uncle have recourse, I loathe from my heart; 
for I hold with the precepts of the Gospel, which 
says : Let your speech be yea, yea ; no, no ; and 
that which is over and above these is of evil.” 
But we also read in the Scriptures: “With what 
measure you mete, it shall be ‘measured to you 
again.” And this text reconciles me to the wily 
ways, whereby it is proposed to ensnare this 
woman for the furtherment of the pure Gospel, of 
which she is so stiffnecked an opponent. For I 
consider her to be as full of guile as any of the ser- 
pents the Papacy has ever bred! So let this Gif- 
ford come, and see what he can accomplish, but 


186 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

let him beware of foul play! I shall keep a strict 
eye upon him, and shall run both him and her 
through with my sword, if he turns traitor. She 
shall not escape from my guardianship alive, un- 
less the devil flies away with her to his own 
place . 77 

Sir Amias said these last words in so spiteful 
a manner that a cold shiver ran over me. For 
some time he continued his denunciations of idol- 
atry, similar in most respects to those uttered by 
the Jewush prophets of old. Presently, having 
vented his spleen, he came and sat down beside 
me, and, at my request, began to talk about his 
prisoner. She would not be persuaded, he said, to 
join the household at their devotions, nor would 
she listen to the pure word of God from the lips of 
the zealous and god-fearing preacher Bitterstone, 
who held forth to the elect people of God, for half 
an hour every evening, as the Spirit moved him. 
Instead of that, she and her attendants, with the 
secretaries Nau and Curie, knelt before a crucifix 
or an image of the Madonna, and pattered out the 
rosary, or some cursed idolatrous nonsense. She 
would only too gladly have the abomination of the 
mass, if he would let one of the priests of Baal 
come under his roof ; hitherto he had succeeded in 
preventing that, although to his great astonishment 
the Queen, who was unfortunately not altogether 
innocent of a leaning to Popery, had granted per- 
mission to his prisoner to have one of these ser- 
vants of the devil about her. Then he begged me 
not to repeat what he had let slip in the heat of his 
just wrath, for not very long since, Elizabeth had 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 187 


condemned one John Stubbs to have his right hand 
chopped off by the hangman, for over-great freedom 
of speech when expounding the Gospel. With 
regard to Mary Stuart however, her bitterest enemy 
must admit that apart from her former crimes and 
her persistent adhesion to Boman errors, she was 
not so bad after all. She displayed in general far 
more patience than he would have thought possible 
in such a child of hell, and she even made a show 
of Christian charity, for he had overheard her pray- 
ing for the Queen, and also for himself. He did not 
allow himself to be deceived by appearances, for 
he knew full well that the devil can assume the 
form of an angel of light, and that true beliefs are 
the only solid ground of justification. Instead of 
that she trusted to good works, according to the 
Popish teaching, as I should see in the afternoon, 
when she distributed her daily alms to the beggars 
who came from all the country round to Chartley, 
as they used to do in the old Popish times, to get 
the doles given away at the funeral of some person 
of standing in the country, to release his soul from 
purgatory. 

We were still conversing in this way when w r e 
heard the sound of wheels in the courtyard and a 
clamour of voices. My companion ran to the win- 
dow and exclaimed: “Here is the man we want, 
the very fellow your Gifford, or whatever his name 
is, spoke of.” 

I too went to the window, and looking out, I 
saw a heavy wagon drawn by two horses crossing 
the courtyard. On the driver’s seat was an im- 
mensely corpulent man, resembling in shape the 


188 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


beer barrels with which the dray behind him was 
loaded. 

‘‘That is Tommy Bulky , the ‘honest brewer’, on 
whom Gifford put his finger,” Paulet said to me. 
“He brings over the beer from Burton every Mon- 
day, and I think he is just the man to answer our 
purpose. We must go down to the porter’s lodge 
to speak to him, for such a barrel as he is cannot 
well be got upstairs.” 

This was apparent enough from the difficulty 
the good man had at alighting from the wagon. 
The servants brought a short pair of steps of solid 
oak, part of the side of the wagon was removed, 
and Tommy advanced one of his legs of elephantine 
thickness, encased in dirty leathern breeches, 
placing it cautiously on the topmost step of the 
ladder. Although I was in no merry mood, I could 
not forbear laughing as I watched him, and even 
the features of my morose companion relaxed into 
a smile, as he compared the “honest brewer” of 
Burton to the obese king of Amalek. 

In going down to the porter’s lodge we found 
our man sitting on a bench, still panting and puff- 
ing from the exertion of alighting from the wagon. 
His fat arms were propped upon the table, and 
he wiped the perspiration from his brow with his 
apron as he greeted the knight respectfully, and 
gave me a searching look from under his bushy 
eyebrows. I saw in a moment that the fellow was 
a sly dog. Sir Amias told him I was nephew to 
Secretary Walsingham, and had come down from 
London about a little business. The brewer gave 
me another sharp look with a rather unceremonious 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 189 


nod, and continued to wipe bis bald head. Sir 
Amias then sent the porter over to the Mayflower , 
a tavern in the vicinity, where Gifford, who must 
have got there by that time, was to lodge, with 
orders to bring him over at once. 

Meanwhile the ‘ ‘honest brewer” had recovered 
his breath. After he had taken a long draught out 
of a huge tankard that stood on the table, he said, 
as he wiped the foam from his beard: “I was 
once in London, sir, I shall never go there again. 
Bad beer there, sir, vile stuff, not tit for a Chris- 
tian to drink. Before I had drank a dozen mugs 
of it, I had the gripes, as if I had the devil him- 
self inside me. I warrant you, sirs, I had to pay 
more for physic than for my victuals that time. 
Men who brew such ale ought to be drowned 
in their own vats, that would serve them right. 
Pure Gospel and good beer, I say. But it appears 
in these days, the purer the doctrine, the 
worse the beer, although my good master here 
will not have that it is so. Our Burton ale 
is still excellent, sir, mine is at any rate. But 
the ditchwater they drink in the country round 
has so brought down our prices that upright folk 
will soon have to beg their bread, as sure as my 
name is Tommy Bulky.” 

Then I said that the Burton ale was renown- 
ed for its excellence all over England, and I was 
sorry that he and his brother-brewers did not 
make the business answer well. On that account 
I was all the more glad to be able to put him in 
the way of getting a little money. On hearing 
this, he set down the tankard which he was in 


190 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the act of carrying to his lips, and listened to 
me attentively. In a few words I told him about 
the matter ; that my uncle had discovered a con- 
spiracy of some young Popish gentlemen, who 
wanted to carry on a correspondence with the cap- 
tive Queen of Scots, and who had fixed upon him 
for their middle man. Here the brewer interupted 
me by bringing his fist down upon the table with 
such violence that the tankard was nearly upset. 
Did he, he asked with an oath, look like one who 
would be a traitor to the Queen! If the Papists 
required such things of him, he would stave in their 
heads with his fist as if they were rotten casks. 

I had some trouble to pacify him, and make 
him understand what it was, I meant. It was not 
the conspirators themselves who had fixed upon 
him, but one whom Walsingham had got in among 
them to act as a decoy bird and who knew that 
the honest brewer could be thoroughly relied 
upon. Did he now catch my meaning! Bulky 
only replied with a sly wink and a low whistle. 
If he managed the affair successfully, I continued, 
Walsingham promised him a bounty of £10, for 
the payment of which Sir Amias would be wit- 
ness and surety. How much he should demand 
from the other parties, from the Queen of Scots’" 
secretary, on the one hand, and from the Popish 
gentlemen on the other, I should leave to him, 
as I did not doubt he would know how to bleed 
them both freely. The only stipulation to be 
made was that all should be arranged so 
craftily that both the conspirators and the in- 
. mates of the* castle should fall into the trap, and 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 191 


should be convinced that he was dealing with them 
in good faith. Moreover, it was agreed that all 
the letters before being given to the Queen 7 s sec- 
retary or delivered to the Popish gentlemen, as the 
case might be, should be left for one night with an 
agent of Walsingham 7 s, who would lodge near his 
brewery at Burton. 

After I had clearly explained everything to 
him, and even at his request given him my instruc- 
tions in writing, with my own signature and that 
of Paulet attached to them, the honest brewer 
declared himself ready to do our bidding, and swore 
upon the Bible, that he would carry it out exactly, 
and give up all the letters confided to him. With a 
well satisfied smile he pocketed the gold piece I 
gave him into the bargain, emptied the tankard at 
one draught, and said: “Gentlemen, it is a fine 
thing when one can serve the Gospel and her Ma- 
jesty the Queen, whom God preserve, and do oues- 
self a good turn at the same time. May the devil 
fetch me bodily — not a very easy task with a man of 
my weight by the bye — if I do not prove worthy of 
my Lord Secretary’s trust ! 77 

Having given utterance to these forcible words, 
my man rose to his feet, not without an effort, and 
prepared to depart. We told him he had better 
wait a few moments longer, as we wanted him to 
make the acquaintance of the men with whom he 
would have to consult and combine. So he dropped 
down on the bench again, saying we could imagine 
that he could not bear standing, and begging that 
he might have a second tankard of ale, as there 
was not a more thirsty soul than himself. Ere 


192 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

long Gifford and Philipps made their appearance, 
and the three strange comrades soon came to an 
understanding. 

I may as well here mention briefly the manner 
in which the honest brewer proposed to lay his 
toils. He was not only a brewer by trade, but an 
accomplished cooper, and could both make and 
mend his barrels and casks. Gifford knew this, 
and he therefore asked him if it were not practic- 
able to make a false bottom to one of the barrels, 
so that a flat tin case, containing the letters wrapped 
in parchment, could be slipped into the empty par- 
tition. Nothing could be simpler, Bulky answered; 
adding that he could insert a spring in one of the 
staves exactly opposite to the vent-hole, which 
would enable the false bottom to be opened, and 
the letters put into, or withdrawn from the recep- 
tacle. 1 ) I was astonished at Gifford’s device, and 
the readiness with which the brewer took it up. 

“ There is only one difficulty that I see,” he 
said at length. “How is Nau, the Queen’s secre- 
tary, to be informed of the construction of the new 
cask, which I will make by next Monday?” 

“That is easily arranged,” I replied. “You 
have only to write on a piece of paper a few words 
to the effect that the Queen’s friends have found a 
means of conveying secret intelligence to her and 
of learning her wishes, ,and telling them to press 
the middle stave of the barrel, where there is a spot 
of tar. The master brewer must contrive to slip 
the paper into the hand of the servant who takes 


i) Ibid, ii, p. 336. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 193 

the cask, and all will go smoothly, for Sir Amias 
will wink at it.” 

In reality all did go smoothly with onr plan, 
and I feel myself to have been an accomplice in the 
treachery, and in its fatal consequences. May God 
in his mercy pardon me. 



CHAPTEB XV. 

Two Queens, and what St. Barbe thought about them. 

The hope that the scheme which we had just 
been concocting would prove a sure and speedy 
means of bringing his prisoner to the block, put 
Sir Amias in the best of humours. He entertained 
me right royally at dinner, regaling me, not only 
with the excellent Burton ale, but with a bottle of 
choice wine, wherein to drink her Majesty’s health 
and destruction to all her enemies. 

Presently he said that it was now time, if I 
wanted to see the Queen of Scots amongst the 
beggar-folk. Of course I was anxious to s£e her, 
whom from my tenderest years, I had been taught 
to regard as the arch-enemy of the word of God. 
Paulet conducted me into another apartment, 
whence a view of the courtyard was to be obtained. 
The outer gate was closed, and guarded by a few 
armed men. On the steps leading to a side door 
in the opposite wing of the building a considerable 
number of poor and afflicted persons were congre- 
% gated. Cripples were there, resting on their 
crutches ; the patient blind, with children to lead 
them; sufferers pale and emaciated, displaying 
hideous sores, and clothed in scanty and ragged 
garments. There were about half-a-hundred of 
them, and Paulet told me there were four times as 
many waiting outside, but he did not allow more 
than four dozen to be let in, and they were watched, 
lest they should bring in, or carry away any 
messages. Then he fell to abusing the whole pack 
( 194 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 195 


of mendicants, declaring they would all return to 
the abomination of Popery to-morrow, for the sake 
of the monks who gave victuals to them daily at 
the monastery gates. 

While he was discoursing after this fashion, 
the bell in the turret struck three. At the first 
stroke, the mendicants began to bestir themselves ; 
they pressed towards the side door, which was 
opened almost immediately to give egress to a 
queenly figure, habited entirely in black, with a 
white widow’s veil. She was accompanied by one 
or two waiting women. The- people flocked around 
her with respectful familiarity. “There she is,” 
said Paulet, the one in black with the veil ; that is 
the Jezabel, and may Jezabel’s fate be hers! 

I cannot say that I was inclined to echo the 
wish of my Puritan host. There was in my nature 
too much of human kindness, despite my early 
training and teaching, to allow me to look unmoved 
upon the spectacle before me. Mary Stuart appeared 
far from well; it was not without difficulty that 
leaning upon a stick and the arm of one of her 
attendants, she descended the stone steps, and 
seated herself upon a chair which her -Secretary 
Mr. Nau placed for her. She then threw back 
her veil. Her countenance had been robbed of 
its bloom by long years of captivity; it was 
pale, almost sallow, and apparently slightly 
swollen. Yet I thought I had never gazed on 
features so beautiful and so dignified; they bore 
the stamp of gentleness and serenity; the ex- 
pression of her large dark eyes was • kindly in 
the extreme. A benign smile played about her 


196 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

lips, which were almost colourless, while with her 
own hand she distributed her alms to each applicant 
in turn; she seemed to know them all, and had a 
friendly word for every one. To some she gave 
money, more or less according to their needs, from 
a purse which her Secretary held for her ; to others 
she gave a loaf of bread from a basket carried by 
one of her maidens. 

“At one time,” remarked Sir Amias, “she 
attempted to teach the children the soul- destroying 
doctrines of Antichrist, and make them pray to the 
Virgin and the Saints. But I put a stop to that, 
and she does not dare now to infect the souls of the 
people with that poison.” 

“She does not seem in good health,” I ob- 
served. “Her complexion is bad, and she looks 
as if she were suffering.” 

“Yes, yes;” he replied, stroking his grizzly 
beard, “that comes from confinement and want of 
exercise. When she was at Tutbury, Sir Ralph 
Sadler used from time to time let her go out 
heron-hawking. Now I keep her much stricter. 
Since Christmas she has never once been beyond 
these walls, and the apartments are rather fusty, 
and not over well heated. I had instructions too 
from the Privy Council not to provide a very 
generous table for her. At one time I thought she 
had dropsy, and would not live long. But now 
that the weather is improving, it seems almost as 
if she were getting well again, like a bird after 
moulting. In fact she may live to spite me and 
other people for a good many years to come, if the 
executioner does not make short work with her. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 197 


She uses a stick because of rheumatism, for the 
dampness of the old stone walls has got into her 
joints, so that she moans nt night with the pain, 
and much I doubt whether she will get rid of it in 
the summer. Her hair has turned very grey this 
winter, though she is only fourty-four years of age. 

I believe the cause of that is her grief about the 
King of Scotland, her son, who foreswore the 
Popish errors and made himself Elizabeth’s ally, 
without stipulating for his mother’s release.” 

While Paulet was talking, I could not take 
my eyes from the royal lady. As I watched her 
giving bread to the hungry with loving condescen- 
sion, the thought occurred to me that in the great 
day of reckoning our Lord would say to her:' 
“Amen 1 say to you, as long as you did it to one 
of these my least brethren, ye did it to me.” How- 
ever I instantly repelled the idea as a temptation 
of the devil, so difficult is it to overcome the pre- 
judices early instilled into one. 

When half-past three struck, she forthwith 
rose, and supported by Nau and her maidens, 
slowly ascended the steps. At the door she paused, 
and turning once more towards the recipients of her 
bounty, took leave of them with a courteous inclina- 
tion of the head, and disappeared from view. It 
surprised me that the mendicants 'let her depart in 
silence; no one uttered a word of thanks, except 
one or two children who were instantly hushed by 
their elders. My companion devined my thoughts, 
and in answer to them said that formerly there 
was such a clamour of thanks and blessings, that 
he had made a strict rule that any one who said a 


198 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

word aloud should never be admitted again into 
the courtyard. That had been effectual, he said, in 
making them all as mum as fishes. 

I made no rejoinder to the knight’s remarks. 
The struggle had already commenced in my heart 
between divine grace and deep seated prejudice, 
and it was with me as it is with everyone who 
strives to close his ears to the inspirations of the 
Holy Ghost. I felt strangely dissatisfied and em- 
bittered, and could bear no longer to remain in the 
castle of which the royal lady, the sight of whom 
had had so powerful effect upon me, was an inmate. 
So I told Sir Amias that I must go as far as Bed- 
worth or Rugby that evening, as I had to be back 
in London betimes the day after next, and asked 
him to order my horse to be brought round. He 
sent polite messages to my uncle, and promised to 
despatch a messenger on horseback as soon as 
there should be intelligence of any importance to 
communicate. He also undertook to look narrowly 
after Gifford and the brewer. Thus I rode away 
from Chartley with disquiet in my soul. 

Wal singh am received me most kindly, and 
rubbed his hands together delightedly when I gave 
my report. Then he said it was high time that I 
should put in an appearance at Court for a few 
days, to pay my devoirs to her Majesty, and recall 
myself at the same time to Miss Cecil’s remem- 
brance. He gave me some useful hints, as to what 
I should say and what I should leave unsaid. I 
was not to breathe a word about Babington’s plans 
and our counter-plans ; but I was to pay the most 
barefaced compliments to the Queen about her wit 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 199 


and her beauty ; it was incredible what an amount 
of flattery she would swallow. With Miss Cecil, 
who was of a graver disposition, I could get on 
very well, but with the Queen, I was much too 
guarded in my speech; I ought to imitate Sir 
Christopher Hatton, Sir Walter Raleigh, and other 
courtiers, and so on. 

Accordingly early the next morning I repaired 
to Richmond, where the Court then was. In the 
ante-room I found a number of young noblemen, 
who greeted me most courteously. They had heard 
that I had only recently arrived from Paris, and I 
was overwhelmed with questions about the French 
Court and all manner of things. Happily for me, 
the great folding doors leading to the Royal apart- 
ments were soon rolled back; two of the Queen’s 
body-guard carrying halberds, commonly called 
beef-eaters, from their attendance at the buffetier , 
or sideboard, placed themselves in the entry ; the 
groom of the chambers with his silver staff called 
for silence, and announced that her Majesty would 
shortly appear. The courtiers ranged themselves 
on each side of the room, and in a few moments 
the Queen entered, with Lord Burghley at her side. 

Elizabeth walked with her head more , than 
usually erect, without taking the arm of the Lord 
Treasurer, as was her wont. This was a sign that 
she was not in the best of tempers ; the peculiar 
expression on Burghley’ s countenance, and the 
evident perturbation of the two maids of honour 
who carried her long train, confirmed my suspicion. 
But Elizabeth was every inch a queen. Her rich 
apparel, consisting of a dress of crimson velvet 


200 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

slashed with black, with a stomacher heavy with 
gold and silver embroidery and laden with jewels, 
over a green petticoat, also elaborately adorned, 
well became her commanding figure. With a proud, 
almost defiant look, she passed between the rows 
of obsequious courtiers. Involuntarily my thoughts 
recurred to the scene I had witnessed three days 
before at Chartley* I contrasted the elegant form, 
clad in simple black and leaning on a stick sur- 
rounded by a crowd of ragged medicants, with the 
haughty Sovereign in whose presence I stood. But 
I had little leisure to make comparisons. Elizabeth 
advanced with a firm step, addressing an observation 
to one or another of the courtiers, more often a 
word of sarcasm or reproof than of kindness or 
encouragement. Whoever she spoke to immediately 
fell on his knees. This was a new custom intro- 
duced by Elizabeth ; the English nobility, accus- 
tomed to a certain freedom in their relations to 
their monarchs, were now obliged, with certain 
exceptions, to assume this humble attitude when 
speaking to the Queen. 

On reaching the place where I stood, Elizabeth 
paused, and exclaimed, “What marvel is this! 
Here is Walsinghanfis nephew, concerning whose 
diplomatic astuteness such wonderful, and probably 
exaggerated reports have reached us, actually at 
last conferring on us the honour of his presence ! 7 7 

I dropped on my knee, and begged for forgive- 
ness, alleging that her Majesty 7 s service had till 
then prevented me from seeking the light of her 
countenance, whose youthful bloom and beauty 
was enhanced rather than diminished by the lapse 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 201 


of time since I last beheld it. I blush to recall the 
incense of flattery which I burnt at the altar of a 
woman already over fifty years of age ; but I only 
carried out my uncle’s injunctions, and employed 
the phrases he suggested. Thus I went on to say 
that what was said at the French Court appeared 
to be true, namely, that the gods had given to her 
Majesty the ambrosia of perpetual youth as the 
reward of virginity, since no natural means could 
avail to preserve her beauty thus undimmed by 
the hand of years. 

She laughed and said I had learnt in the school 
of Catharine de Medici to make pretty speeches, 
and I must not think she believed a word of my 
flatteries, neatly turned though they were. Or 
perhaps Walsingham himself had taught me my 
lesson ? 

I answered (God forgive me) in the words of 
Holy Scripture : Sapiens es sicut angelus Dei ! 
Nothing escapes your Majesty’s penetration! True 
it is that my uncle spoke in similar terms of your 
Majesty’s almost superhuman beauty, but now my 
own eyes tell me that far from saying too much, 
his expressions fell short of the truth. 

A murmur of approval and assent ran through 
the assembled bystanders. The Queen gave me a 
gracious pat with one of the gold tassels hanging 
from her girdle, saying, “Bise up Master St. Barbe, 
and follow us in the hall of audience. We must 
have some conversation with you.” 

It was plain that the Queen’s vanity was 
tickleci, and it has always been a puzzle to me, how 
a rational being, perfectly aware of the falsity of 


202 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

these flatteries, should still take pleasure in them. 
Many an envious glance was directed towards me, 
as I followed in the Queen’s train. Amongst the 
maids of honour, I saw Miss Cecil. Our eyes met ; 
I fancied I read in her glance something of annoy- 
ance, if not of scorn on account of the flatteries I 
had been uttering. The contemptibility of such 
hollow sycophancy was borne in upon me forcibly, 
and I felt heartily ashamed of myself. 

While this was passing in my mind, the Queen 
had entered the audienca chamber with her suite, 
and taken her seat on a gilt arm-chair, beneath a 
canopy of blue damask, the back of which was 
decorated with the royal arms and surmounted by 
a crown. On her right stood Lord Burghley ; on 
her left the Lord Chamberlain. Besides myself a 
few of the nobles and ladies of the Court had the 
honour to be present at this audience, when vari- 
ous petitioners made their requests to the Queen. 
I do not remember what the petitions consisted in: 
they were of the nature usually asked of crowned 
heads.' Elizabeth refused some with bitter irony; 
others she granted ; almost invariably, she listened 
favourably to the application of Catholic nobles 
who having apostatized, asked for a share in the 
property of other members of the family, confis- 
cated on account of the owner’s adhesion to his 
faith. But these favours — the reward of apostasy 
— were often accorded grudgingly and scornfully, 
as one might throw a dog a bone and give him a 
kick at the same time. 

Presently, it was my lot to witness a scene, 
which will ever remain impressed on my memory. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 203 

Lady Tregian was announced, and the Groom of 
the Chambers ushered in a gentlewoman of distin- 
guished appearance, dressed in black, still young, 
but pale and worn with grief. She led by the hand 
two little boys, and a girl, wearing a white frock, 
held on to the skirt of her gown. On hearing the 
name of Tregian, an angry frown contracted Eliza- 
beth’s brow, this the lady appeared not to notice, 
at any rate she did not heed it, so bent was she on 
making her plaint or her petition heard. Throwing 
herself at the Queen’s feet, with her children, she 
addressed her, at first with a trembling voice, but 
afterwards with the courage of despair, somewhat 
in this wise : 

“Since your Majesty wields supreme power in 
this land, and is the earthly representative of the 
Divine Majesty, your subjects may chum your 
protection and help in their distress. I venture 
therefore to approach in my hour of trouble, and 
to implore for God’s sake a gracious hearing on 
behalf of my unfortunate husband, who has lan- 
guished in prison for many years, and on behalf of 
these innocent children.” 

Elizabeth interrupted her impatiently. “If 
we were to listen to the gossip of all the women 
in the kingdom,” she said, “little time would be 
left for the weighty affairs of the State that engross 
our attention. Make your story short, good 
woman. Who are you % What do you want ? ” 

A flush overspread the countenance of the 
suppliant, betraying the vexation aroused by this 
unkindly rebuff. Quickly mastering her emotion, 
she continued, with the utmost composure of man- 


204 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOSINDON. 

ner: “I am the unhappy wife of Lord Francis 
Tregian, who is distantly related to the Eoyal 
House of Tudor, We lived in peace and comfort 
at our Castle near Launceston in Cornwall, until 
on the testimony of a perjured villain, a wandering 
musician, bribed by our enemies to work our ruin, 
my husband was accused of harbouring a Seminary 
Priest, Cuthbert Maine, and under the Statute 
Praemunire condemned to loss of goods and chattels 
and imprisonment for life. I was then expecting 
the birth of my fourth child, and doubting not 
that so unjust a sentence — no less than forty wit- 
nesses having alleged the accusation to be false — 
would be reversed, I confidently awaited my hus- 
band’s return. But instead of this, late one night 
some officers of the law presented themselves at 
our door and took possession, in virtue of the 
sentence, of all our property. Penetrating into 
the bed chamber, whither I had retired with the 
children, they turned us out in the dark and cold 
to take shelter in a barn until daybreak. -I then 
resolved to seek justice at the hands of your 
Majesty, as the divinely appointed protector of 
the oppressed. We, the wife and children of Lord 
Tregian, begged our bread from village to village, 
from town to town, across England, all the long- 
weary way from Cornwall to London. Our journey 
was not half over, when the baby was born ; but 
no sooner could I drag my limbs onward than we 
started anew to throw ourselves on your compas- 
sion. Behold us now at your Majesty’s feet ! speak, 
my children, and say what I have taught yon!” 

Francis, the eldest boy, was about to speak ; 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 205 


he looked up at the Queen and the words died on 
his lips, so forbidding was the aspect of that royal 
lady. “She is angry, mother,’ ’ he whispered. His 
little brother began to whimper; the little girl 
alone had the courage to repeat the formula she 
had been told to utter : 1 ‘ Please set father free. 

Let us go back to our home. I will pray to the 
holy Mother of God for your Majesty every day.” 

For a moment I thought that the Queen’s heart 
would be melted, and her better nature j> re vail. I 
was mistaken. With a bitter, cynical laugh she 
turned to the Lord Chamberlain, whose office it 
was to prepare the list of petitioners to be given 
her, and said: “I thank you so much, my lord, 
for this charming little performance. The lady’s 
gesticulation is excellent, she might with advan- 
tage play the part of Hecuba at the Globe theatre. 
She articulates well, also, only at times her manner 
is rather laboured. The children want practice, 
except the girl, she acted her part quite prettily. 
Give her a bright shilling, and a cake.” Then 
completely changing her tone, she addressed Lady 
Tregian, who had risen to her feet, indignant at 
the scorn with which she was treated. “My lady,” 
she said, “We will make as if we had not heard 
the heavy charges which you have dared to bring 
against our Law Courts and administration of 
Justice; there would otherwise be ample ground 
for committing you to the Tower. Have the good- 
ness to answer one question: Is it not true that 
you and your husband are stubborn Papists ? That 
you have refused to attend divine worship as by 
law established % That you will not acknowledge us 


206 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

as the legitimate and supreme Head of the Church 
of England ? Yes, or no!” 

Lady Tregian answered calmly: “Certainly, 
your Majesty, we are true children of the ancient 
Faith. In all civil matters you have every claim 
on our obedience ; but we can never, we will never 
recognize in you the successor of St. Peter to whom 
Christ said, “Thou art the rock, upon which I will 
build my Church ! ’ ’ 

The Queen could no longer control her rage. 
“That is quite enough! ” she exclaimed. “Begone, 
insolent woman, and beware how you venture 
again to intrude your hateful person into our royal 
presence. By the soul of king Henry, we are 
tempted to forget our characteristic gentleness and 
make such an example of you and your children 
that not only all England, but all Europe shall 
talk of it. The sentence of the Court will remain 
valid ; your lord will not be set at liberty until he 
acknowledges us to be Supreme Head of the Eng- 
lish Church, and attends divine service as we have 
ordained. As for you, you and your brats can beg 
in the streets, you certainly are not wanting in the 
requisite effrontery. Lieutenant of the Guard, 
conduct this woman and her children to the park 
gates, and send them away from thence. Under no 
circumstances are they ever to be admitted again.” 

Lady Tregian drew the weeping children to 
her side, made a deep curtsy to the Queen, and 
withdrew from the audience chamber, saying as she 
went, “May your Majesty find more mercy before 
the throne of God than you have shown to us!” 


CHAPTEE XVI. 


St. Barbe has a private audience of the Queen, and is driven 
into a corner by Miss Cecil. 

It is useless to commit to writing the abusive 
language in which Elizabeth continued to give vent 
to her anger after the persons who had provoked 
it had withdrawn. The whole scene affected me 
most disagreeably, the more so because Mary 
Stuart’s charity towards the poor was yet fresh in 
my memory. 

Presently the Queen rose, and was conducted 
by Lord Burghley into her private cabinet, whither 
I was shortly summoned. I found her seated at a 
writing table, on which was* a pile of papers, occu- 
pied in tracing the large letters with flourishes 
forming . her well-known signature. For a long 
time I remained standing unnoticed at the door, 
so that I had the opportunity of observing 
the subject of the Gobelin tapestry on 
the walls, and the sumptuous furniture of the 
apartment. The tapestry represented the finding 
of the infant Moses by Pharao’s daughter; an in- 
scription upon a scroll explaining that as Pharao’s 
daughter saved Moses from death, so Elizabeth, 
the daughter of the heavenly King, had rescued 
the pure Gospel from the destruction wherewith 
the Pope, the Pharao of heathen Egypt, had 
threatened it. 

At length the Queen looked up, laid aside 
the swan-quill in her hand, and beckoned to me 
not unkindly to approach. At three paces dis- 
( 207 ) 


208 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OE WOXINDON. 

tant from her feet I knelt down ; but she graci- 
ously bade me rise, and even take my seat upon 
a low stool. She addressed a great many ques- 
tions to me about Paris, about the King and the 
Queen Mother, and I told her as many Court 
scandals as I could remember out of the number 
that are always rife in the French Court. She 
listened with a malicious pleasure ; then she 
asked about the Duke of Guise, and what pros- 
pect there was for Henry of Kavarre. I replied 
that he was almost certain of the crown, the only 
doubt being whether he would give up the re- 
formed religion for the sake of it. “Ko,” she 
replied, “everybody has not our courage. We 
might have had peaceful times, had we cast our- 
selves at the Pope’s feet, and retained the fable 
of the mass. As it is, not only are the Papists 
incessantly plotting against us, but the Puritans 
also make our life a burden to us."’ She then 
began to speak of the situation of affairs in the 
Low Countries, and inquired what was thought of 
Leicester at Paris. As I knew that he no longer 
stood as high as he formerly did in his royal 
mistress’ favour, I did not scruple to say that 
his achievements had disappointed the expecta- 
tions formed of him ; but the fortunes of war 
did not always correspond to the qualities and 
talents of great generals. “Qualities and ta- 
lents!” she broke out. Dudley is an idle 
boaster, a miles gloriosus , and nothing more! To 
hear him talk you might fancy him a great con- 
queror, but he is a fool compared with Parma. 
And now, contrary to our express command, he 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 209 

has arrogated to himself the title of Governor- 
General of the States. I have a good mind to 
recall him, and let him make a triumphal entry 
into the Tower! The support of the evangelical 
cause in the Netherlands has already cost us a 
mint of money ; and it has struck me that the 
best way would be simply to surrender to the 
King of Spain the four seaports which were con- 
ceded to me by the treaty to hold as a security, 
on condition that he should refund us our war ex- 
penses, and do with the insurgents as seems right 
to his conscience and his honour as a king. 1 ) That 
would be the surest means of concluding a perma- 
nent peace with Philip II, and once for all deliver- 
ing our subjects from the apprehension of a Span- 
ish invasion, which every year appears more 
alarming. What is your opinion ! 7 7 

I was quite aghast at such a proposition, for it 
was nothing short of a shameful desertion of our 
allies. Yet I was enough of a courtier to mask the 
indignation it aroused within me, and reply that I 
was but an inexperienced youth, and could not 
venture to put forward my opinions in the presence 
of so wise and enlightened a monarch. The bold- 
ness of the scheme took away my breath ; my only 
fear was that the abandonment of our Protestant 
brethren would bring us into ill odour with the 
partisans of the Reformation. Besides it seemed 
rather hazardous to have the Spaniards for such 
near neighbours. But doubtless this and all other 
considerations had been duly weighed long since 
by her Majesty. Feeling myself on dangerous 


A ) Hosack I, ch. ii, p. 322. 


210 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

ground, for the sake of changing the conversation, 
I remarked that in accordance with my uncle’s 
commands, I had visited Chartley a few days ago, 
to see whether the orders of the Privy Council in 
regard to their distinguished prisoner were fully 
carried out. At the mention of Mary Stuart, Eliz- 
abeth started as if she had been shot ; her coun- 
tenance twitched ; one might have fancied that the 
crying injustice of which she was guilty towards 
that unhappy lady, suddenly appeared before her 
in its true colours. u How is that horrid Scotch- 
woman!” she inquired. “If my subjects only 
knew how long she has been a thorn in my side, 
how often the thought of her has cost me my night’s 
sleep, some honest evangelical would have rid me 
of her, as Phineas removed the scandal from among 
the children of Israel. But all the time she pre- 
tends love and friendship for ourselves, calls us 
her ‘dear sister’, sends diamond rings, while she is 
weaving one plot after another against us, and 
would strangle us with her own hands if she could. 
Did you see her! How is she looking! and what is 
she doing!” 

I depicted the Queen of Scots condition, the 
unhealthy pallour of her complexion, her gray 
hair, her feeble walk, and said Sir Amias Paulet 
was of opinion that besides the rheumatism from 
which she suffered, she had a great tendency to 
dropsy. Elizabeth would not believe this, she said 
the woman was an arrant hypocrite, and we must 
not for God’s sake allow ourselves to be deceived 
by her, for if she were once at liberty, she would 
soon send her stick flying, and run about nimbly. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 211 


When I told the Queen how I had seen her in the 
courtyard amidst the beggars, thinking, like the 
simpleton I was, that it would touch her, she burst 
out right angrily. Did I not perceive, she ex- 
claimed, that this was the way the viper wormed 
herself into the affections of the poor and the 
peasantry'? That very day a messenger should be 
sent to Sir Amias to put a stop to this almsgiving, 
and order him to allow his prisoner no intercourse 
with the people. Thus I was the involuntary 
means, for which may God forgive me, of causing 
an order to be issued that added another to the 
many sorrows of the unhappy captive. 

When Elizabeth’s rage had subsided, she 
turned to another subject, beginning to speak to 
me about Lord Burgliley’s daughter. I felt very 
much embarrassed, as I did not know what she 
was driving at. She remarked my confusion, and 
was amused at it ; she told me I was a naughty 
fellow, for a little bird had long since whispered to 
her that I was in love with the beautiful, clever 
and rich, very rich, Miss Cecil, and she admired 
my taste. Burghley, she said had taken care to 
feather his own nest well with the spoils of the 
Egyptians. And she thought she could assure me 
that of all the fortune hunters who paid court to 
the heiress, none was more favourably regarded 
than myself. She did not grudge me the preference 
shown me, for she considered I gave promise of 
great abilities, which would be of service to the 
State. I naturally was much gratified by these 
flattering words ; and the Queen proceeded to say : 
“The interest I take in the young lady, as well as 


212 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

in yon, Mr. St. Barbe, makes me desirous to say a 
word to you. Miss Judith thinks a great deal too 
much ; her mind runs upon religious questions ; I 
even have reason to suspect that she is not so firm 
an Evangelical as one could wish, and hankers 
after the flesh-pots of Egypt, the old Popish 
leaven. On that account I am desirous you should 
come to Richmond. Do you talk to her on the 
subject, I will see that you have an opportunity 
this evening. She has confidence in you, and will 
speak much more openly to you than to her father. 
He has changed his creed too often, as the exigen- 
cies of the times demanded, for her to have much 
respect for his religious convictions. She corres- 
ponded with you about the vexed question of pre- 
destination; I read your answers, they did you 
great credit. I need not add that her perversion 
to Popery would forfeit all my favour, and involve 
the loss of all her property. So do what you 
can to discover what the girl really thinks, and if 
necessary, set her right .’ 7 

Thereupon I was graciously dismissed from 
the royal presence. The audience had been of so 
unusual a length, that when I entered the ante- 
chamber, where Sir Walter Raleigh was waiting, 
that gentleman did not look at me in a very amiable 
manner, and several of the courtiers began to pre- 
dict that Walsingham’s nephew was the rising star, 
that is, the new favourite. 

In the afternoon the sweet Spring weather 
tempted the Queen to walk abroad in the park, 
where the younger members of the Court were to 
engage in various sports. At a spot somewhat 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 213 


higher up the river the royal barges were in at- 
tendance, to convey the whole company back to 
Richmond. The park, in the freshness of its early 
verdure, presented a gay scene, as the ladies and 
gentlemen, all splendidly attired, moved about the 
Queen, like butterflies, as some one remarked, hov- 
ering about a beauteous rose. I endeavoured to 
engageMissCecil in conversation, but I was unable 
to do so on account of the number of other aspi- 
rants after her favour. When the sun got low, 
Elizabeth, who had watched the games from a tent, 
rose, and taking the arm of the Earl of Essex, di- 
rected her steps along an avenue of oaks to the 
river side. The ladies and gentlemen in waiting 
and all the courtiers followed her. 

On entering the barge, the Queen designated 
by name those of her suite who were to have the 
honour of remaining near her person. Miss Cecil 
was one, and I was another. Just at the moment 
of pushing off from the bank, Elizabeth missed a 
kerchief that she had worn around her neck. Sup- 
posing it to have been left in the tent, she requested 
Judith Cecil to go back and fetch it. All the gentle- 
men on board offered to accompany her, but the 
Queen singled me out as her escort. 

As long as we could be seen from the river, we 
walked along in silence. But looking round, we 
became aware that the royal barge, together with 
the other boats, had put off, and were already 
under way. 

“There now!” exclaimed Miss Judith, “the 
Queen might have waited a few moments for us ! 
Now we shall have to walk back alone all the way 
through the park!” 


214 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“Miss Cecil,” I replied, “I am delighted at 
the prospect of this walk through the quiet woods 
and meadows in your charming company. I would 
give UX3 the honour of a x>lace on the royal barge 
for it a thousand times over.” 

“I heard enough this morning, Mr. St. Barbe, 
to convince me that during your sojourn in Paris 
you have become an adept in the art of flattery,” 
my companion rejoined somewhat ungraciously. 
“But I thought you knew me better than to address 
these empty compliments to me.” 

“I was afraid I had incurred your displeasure 
this morning,” I resumed, “on account of my little 
exaggerations. I was half ashamed of them my- 
self, and only made use of them in deference of my 
uncle’s wishes, and because I thought they were 
expected of me. You may be assured I have no 
intention to flatter you ; on the contrary, I mean 
to speak quite openly; so I begin by telling you, 
that the errand on which our Sovereign has sent 
us was only a pretext to give me an opportunity 
of conversing with you without fear of interup- 
tion.” 

Miss Judith stood still and looked at me in 
bewildered surprise. “What could the Queen 
mean by that?” she inquired. 

“I will tell you,” I answered, as we sauntered 
along side by side under the spreading trees. “Her 
Majesty imagines herself to have discovered that 
the doctrines of the Gospel no longer satisfy your 
heart, and that you have a leaning towards the old 
Po]3ish creed; not that I believe this for a mo- 
ment. She took it into her head that I ought to 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 215 


ask you about this, and warn you of the peril to 
which you would expose your souks salvation, for 
she credited me with possessing some influence 
over you, my dear young lady.” 

Miss Judith walked a few steps without speak- 
ing, then she responded : “What if it really were 
so? What if my heart and my reason alike revolted 
from the vague, often contradictory teaching of 
the Beformers? Supposing I really did feel 
drawn to the ancient faith our forefathers held, 
what would the Queen have you say to me then?” 

I was not a little alarmed at this speech, 
and hastened to reply: “Of my own accord I 
should make every endeavour to expose the 
snares of the devil, the fallacious arguments, that 
is, wherewith he who was a liar from the beginning 
seeks to entrap simple souls and draw them into 
error. I should beg you on my knees to think of 
the interests of your soul, and also of the temporal 
consequences which would result from your apos- 
tasy. Furthermore, I should represent to you the 
grief that such an act on your part would cause 
to your father, and to all who love and care for 
you, amongst whom I pray I may be reckoned. 
Finally, I should warn you, as the Queen author- 
ized me to do, that you would incur her most 
serious displeasure, and among other serious pen- 
alties that of being completely disinherited.” 

“I am much obliged to you, Mr. St. Barbe, for 
your frankness in thus warning me of what I might 
expect from her Majesty, as well as for your own 
kind, and I am sure, well meant admonitions. As 
I regard you as a real friend, I too will answer 


216 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

you in all sincerity. First of all, I know you 
will admit that no worldly considerations ought 
to have any weight with me, were I really con- 
vinced of the truth of the Catholic religion. The 
martyrs did not shrink from far worse conse- 
quences ; they endured the most cruel tortures 
and death itself rather than abjure the true faith 
or remain in what they knew to be error. There- 
fore no fear of temporal disadvantages, hard as 
I might find them to bear, ought to deter me 
from searching after the truth ; for resistance to 
the known truth would be the sin against the- 
Holy Ghost, wherewith St. Stephen reproached the 
Jewish Sanhedrim. You allow that, do you not?” 

I was compelled to own that I did. 

“Very well,” Miss Cecil continued, “then let 
there be no more mention between us of the conse- 
quences, as I am well aware of them. The ques- 
tion to be decided is whether the old or the new 
religion is the Church founded by Jesus Christ. 
On this point I confess my mind is not at re$t. 
But the more I think it over, the more I jd ray about 
it, the less can I believe in the Church established 
by Parliament and our Queen.” She then with her 
keen, quick intelligence sketched the origin of the 
Anglican Church under Henry VIII., and its his- 
tory up to that day, emphasizing the cause which 
induced Elizabeth’s father to separate from the 
universal Church, and Elizabeth herself to repu- 
diate that same Church to which she had belonged 
under Mary, the Catholic. In Henry’s case it was 
the desire for a woman whom later on he caused to 
be beheaded for adultery; in Elizabeth’s the desire 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 217 


to have the legitimacy of her birth and her right 
to the throne publicly acknowledged. Since that 
time Parliament made some change almost every 
year in religion, and the people were taught the 
most contradictory tenets. 

In answer to this I urged that the fault rested 
with the Church of Rome which had overlaid the truth 
of Jesus Christ with so many human inventions, that 
it was a task of some time for enlightened men to 
purge away the dross from the pure gold of the 
Gospel. 

She replied that the most incomprehensible 
thing of all to her was that at any time in Chris- 
tendom the teaching of Jesus Christ shoujd have 
been falsified in any essential point. She asked 
me, did I not believe that Jesus Christ was true 
God, omniscient, omnipotent and all-wise? 

“Most assuredly. ” I replied, “and I would lay 
down my life for it.” 

“Well then,” she went on, “what did this all- 
wise, this almighty, this true God say when He 
sent out His apostles, commanding them to pro- 
claim His doctrines? You know the passage at the 
close of St. Mathew’s gospel : ‘All power is given 
to me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, 
teach ye all nations, baptizing them in the name of 
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 
Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I 
have commanded you ; And behold, I am with you 
all days , even to the consummation of the world!’ 
What does that mean, if not that I, the Lord of 
Heaven and of Earth, promise that my divine assis- 
tance shall never be wanting to you and to your 


218 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

successors in teaching the truths I brought down 
from Heaven, and in dispensing the means of 
grace? In St. Mark’s gospel he adds these words : 
4 He that belie veth not shall be condemned’; and in 
another place, He promises Peter that the gates of 
hell shall not prevail against His Church. I ask 
you now how this can be explained, if those who 
as the successors of Jesus Christ are invested with 
authority to teach, have for at least the last thou- 
sand years deceived the whole of Christendom on 
the most important points ; leading them into fatal 
errors and degrading idolatry; as for instance, con- 
cerning the holy mass, and the real presence of 
our Lord in the most holy sacrament of the altar? 
How, were this the case, could it be true that this 
Divine Teacher is with His Church all days? Can 
it be supposed that he would compel mankind to 
accept a lie under pain of eternal damnation ? Or 
have the gates of hell for the last thousand years 
prevailed against the teaching of Christ? No, Mr. 
St. Barbe, I see no other alternative than, either to 
acknowledge that the Ancient Church has on no 
essential article of faith departed from the truth — 
and if so, I must receive her doctrines — or, to assert 
that she has departed from the truth, and then the 
word of Christ and His solemn assurance are 
proved worthless. In other words, Jesus Christ is 
not true God, He is deceived or a deceiver, and 
if we say this, the whole fabric of Christianity 
crumbles at a touch. I beg and implore you to 
help me out of this terrible alternative, for I can 
perceive no third course to adopt.” 

If the truth be told, I too saw no way out 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 219 

of the difficulty, but I would not own this to 
myself, much less to my companion. I therefore 
began to speak vaguely about the fallacy of such 
reasoning, and said it might as well be alleged that 
no individual teacher could ever err, a thing ob- 
viously untrue. She shook her head at this objea- 
tion, and rejoined that Christ did not promise to 
preserve every individual teacher who should be 
commissioned to teach his Church from falling into 
error, but He had said : I will be with you ; that 
is, the Church herself should be an infallible and 
unfailing teacher of truth. Thereupon I spoke of 
the bad lives of some of the Popes, who never- 
theless were regarded as infallible in matters 
of doctrine, and asked, how did that coincide 
with the promise that Christ would be ever- 
present in the Church'? She replied that it was 
not said that the apostles and their successors 
should be without sin, but that the doctrine 
should be preserved from corruption. And for 
the matter of that, I need not speak of the Popes’ 
failings : the innovators of the present day were 
no saints, witness Henry VIII., and — but no she 
would not say a word against her Majesty, al- 
though her Court was not one where a virtuous 
maiden found it pleasant to live. — I then found 
a subterfuge by saying that our Lord’s words 
might be interpreted as referring to the invisible 
Church of elect souls, taught by the inspirations 
of the Holy Spirit and by reading the Scriptures. 
— She asked me, did I really believe that*? Had 
not all pious and god-fearing people both in the 
Eastern and the Western Church for a thousand 


220 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

years and more, on the authority of the word of 
God as expounded by the Church, worshipped 
God under the sacramental veil of the Host! Or 
were a handful of apostates like the Waldenses 
and other heretics the only souls whom the Holy 
Spirit vouchsafed to enlighten! To speak only of 
this doctrine of the presence of Christ in the holy 
Eucharist, could I fail to see how indispensable it 
was to believe that our Lord would preserve the 
Church from error on that point! When at the 
Last Supper He uttered the words: “This is my 
Body,” did He notin His divine prescience clearly 
foresee that the whole Church in all ages up to our 
day would understand them in their literal sense! 
And were they not intended to be so understood 
did He not foresee that they would give rise to 
idolatrous worship! To permit such a thing as 
that could hardly be reconciled with our idea of 
His Godhead. And even granting that the Church 
was in error concerning this fundamental dogma 
and chief article of faith, pray which of the hundred 
conflicting theories promulgated by the Reformers, 
each one of whom professes to be enlightened by the 
Holy Spirit, may be taken as the correct one! 

I was for speaking about confession, indul- 
gences, purgatory and the like, but Miss Cecil 
would not let me shirk the great difficulty. She 
returned to the main question at issue : Either the 
Church as a divinely appointed Teacher has never 
erred on any essential point, or Christ is not the 
omniscient God, faithful to His promises, whom 
we are taught to adore. 

Finding myself unable to answer these argu- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 221 


ments, I got a little out of temper, and spoke 
rather sharply to my companion, bidding her take 
heed, lest it should be pride that brought her in 
danger of losing her faith. Did she consider her- 
self wiser and more clear sighted than all the 
excellent and enlightened divines both in England 
and on the continent who were unanimous in 
asserting the Papacy to be the handiwork of the 
devil! Then the tears came into Miss Judith’s 
eyes, and she gently answered that she too had 
feared the same thing ; but she could only humbly 
pray God to enlighten her. To whom could she 
go for counsel! Not to the Anglican clergy, as it 
was impossible to feel any respect for men who 
altered their doctrines at the pleasure of Queen and 
Parliament. To her father! Unhappily she was 
only too well persuaded that as he had already 
changed his creed from political motives, he would 
not hesitate to do the same again if policy so dic- 
tated. She could only look to God, and to her 
own conscience in this perplexing struggle. If I 
could render her any assistance, she would be 
eternally grateful to me. 

This was said in so simple, straightforward 
a manner, that I felt heartily ashamed of having 
reproached her with pride. Moreover the doubts 
she had expressed had awakened so loud an echo 
in my own mind, that I was at a loss what to 
answer. It was a relief to me that we reached the 
tent at that moment, and looking for the missing 
kerchief put a temporary stop to our conversation. 
It was found at the back of the chair upon which 
the Queen sat to watch the games, and we started 
on our walk back to the palace without delay. 


222 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I was the first to begin the conversation again, 
by entreating her not to be hasty in deciding on so 
important a matter. I would give more thought 
to the difficulties she propounded ; I would read 
books on the subject and consult some learned 
divines. Meanwhile we must both be earnest in 
prayer for light from on high ; it was quite possible 
that the Catholic Church was the true Church of 
Christ. She thanked me, and promised to do 
nothing rashly ; as yet she was far from seeing her 
way clear on many points. She begged me not to 
allow her mother or the Queen to know anything 
about her difficulties for the present; to this I 
readily assented. Then it suddenly occurred to 
me to ask, whether these dreadful doubts had sug- 
gested themselves to her mind, or whether some 
meddlesome Papist had done the mischief. 

“The jmincipal difficulty that I mentioned to 
you,” she answered, “has staggered me for a long 
time, but not until quite recently has it clamoured 
for solution. It is ever since I read a little book, 
I dare say you know it, for it has been much 
talked of for the last four years, I mean this one.” 
So saying she drew from her pocket a pamphlet, 
which she handed to me. I looked at the title, and 
exclaimed, “What! the Rationes decern of Campion, 
the Jesuit! Now I see it all. Those serpents have 
instilled their poison into you!” 

“I am perfectly aware, Mr. St. Barbe,” Miss 
Cecil calmly responded in answer to my angry 
outburst, “that our preachers hate the Jesuits, and 
say all manner of evil against them, for they regard 
them as their deadliest enemies. In all my life I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXJNDON. 223 


have never seen one of them, except this very 
Campion, the writer of this little book, and of him 
I never can think without emotion. He was 
brought as a prisoner to London, three weeks after 
it was published, and taken to the Tower gagged 
and bound, on horseback. It was market-day ; I 
was standing in Cheapside, near the cross, and I 
saw how his countenance beamed with holy joy 
while the populace surged around; I saw how 
reverently he saluted the cross. A few days later, 
the Queen expressed a desire to see the noted 
Jesuit ; I was one of the few persons selected to ac- 
company her to the house of the Earl of Leicester, 
where the interview was to be held privately. 
How Leicester, Bedford, and the Queen herself 
were all deeply touched by the calm, modest 
demeanour of the young man, just entering upon 
the prime of life, thus brought face to face with 
death in its most terrible form. The Queen made 
him most brilliant offers, promising him the high- 
est dignities, the richest benefices, if he would 
renounce his allegiance to the Pope. He declined 
them all, but so gently, that it was impossible for 
her to be angry, and we all expected his pardon 
would follow. Far from this, on the very next day 
he was placed by her orders on the rack, and so 
cruelly tortured that he could not raise his hand in 
the presence of the Judge. And then, in the ter- 
rible condition to which he was reduced, no rem- 
edies having been given to him, he had to appear 
in public disputation against our most learned and 
able theologians, concerning the contents of this 
very book. He silenced his opponents so com- 


224 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

pletely, I heard my father say, that all further 
disputations were prohibited. After that a most 
scandalous trial took place ; it is enough to read 
the official report, though in that a great deal is 
suppressed. Last of all he was executed at Tyburn, 
forgiving his enemies, praying for the Queen, like 
the holy martyrs of old. Such was the maligned 
Jesuit, the author of this little book! Now I ask 
you as a favour to read his Rationes decern , his ten 
arguments in defence of the Papacy, for which he, 
and many of our best and noblest fellow countrymen 
— witness Sir Thomas More — have laid down their 
lives. But first of all try to lay aside your pre- 
judices against the name of Jesuit, so far as to 
give the reasons he adduces your deliberate and 
impartial consideration.” 

This I promised to do, and put the pamphlet, 
which I had long been desirous of possessing, into 
my pocket. Yet I went on railing against the 
Jesuits and repeating the slanders that I had heard 
or read about them. At length Miss Cecil begged 
me to leave off, and think what a lovely evening it 
was. The crimson glow of sunset had faded from 
the sky, and the moon had risen ; a light breeze 
whispered in the tree tops, and ever and anon the 
sound of the flowing river fell on our ear. But fair 
and tranquil as was the face of nature, I was not in 
a mood to enjoy the beauty of the scene, my mind 
was too much agitated to feel its charm. Miss 
Cecil walked in silence by my side for a consider- 
able distance. When I looked at her refined and 
aristocratic features, the turmoil within my breast 
rose higher. Was this adorable creature to become 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 225 


a Papist! My whole being rose against the thought, 
and I resolved to spare no effort in order to snatch 
his prey, as I said to myself, from the evil one. 
As we approached the palace, I spoke to her on 
the subject, imploring her with passionate earnest- 
ness, not to listen to the seducer, but for God’s 
sake to think of the consequences a change of 
religion would involve. 

“The consequences V'! she repeated. “Which 
consequences, the temporal or the eternal ! And 
pray whom do you mean by the seducer ! There is 
but one question to be answered : what is the truth 
taught by Jesus Christ ! And when one is satisfied 
on that point, there only remains to act in accord- 
ance with the words : ‘What doth it profit a man, 
if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of 
his own soul?”’ 



CHAPTEK XVII. 

St. Barbe relates how he endeavoured to set his mind at 
rest, and how it came to pass that he made 
Babington’s acquaintance. 

When Miss Cecil and I reached the palace, we 
found a page waiting to conduct us to the Queenhs 
presence. We handed over the kerchief; the 
Queen at once sent away my companion, and in- 
quired whether I had confessed the fair Judith, and 
what was the result? I replied that her Majesty’s 
penetration had not been at fault ; there were, it 
was true, some clouds of doubt which disturbed 
the serenity of Miss Cecil’s faith, but I trusted 
they might be dispersed before they threatened a 
storm. She desired me to be more explicit. For- 
tunately for me at that moment the Earl of Essex 
was announced, and I was dismissed, the Queen 
saying that I must at some other time tell her more 
about my penitent’s state of mind. I answered 
that the seal of confession must not be broken ; she 
laughed, and gave me a playful tap of the shoulder 
as I withdrew, a sign that I was in great favour. 

That night I could not sleep. After tossing 
on my bed till midnight was past, my mind dwel- 
ling continually on the objections Miss Cecil had 
stated, I rose, and lighting a taper, sat down to 
read the Rationes decern . The arguments were so 
irresistible, couched as they were in pithy latinity, 
that I could not help reading the book all through. 
More than once I threw it aside angrily, and paced 
up and down my chamber to still the agitation it 
( 226 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 227 


awakened; but each time I took it up again, and 
read some more. Campion 7 s reason struck me 
like so many blows ; I could have cried aloud, as 
with physical pain. The mishandling of Holy 
Scripture by the Reformers, Luther rejecting the 
Epistle of St. James, his followers rejecting other 
books, the Genevans repudiating the Book of Esther, 
just as the Manichees did St. Mathew’s Gospel and 
the Acts of the Apostles, the Ebionites the Epistles 
of St. Paul; the wresting of the sacred text by 
recent expositors for the support of their own 
opinions, the example cited by Campion, being the 
words Miss Judith had mentioned. ‘This is my 
Body’ to which most contrary meanings were at- 
tached ; the impossibility that a Church out of 
whose pale there is no salvation, should be an 
invisible Church ; the Oecumenical Councils, from 
the first four of which, recognized by Parliament 
in the first years of Elizabeth’s reign, the Jesuit 
drew proofs of the primacy of Peter ; the sacrificial 
character of the mass, the veneration of the saints, 
etc.; the authority of the early Fathers and their 
exposition of the Sacred Scriptures ; the testimony 
of history; the obvious contradictions and false 
conclusions in the tenets of modern innovations ; 
the fair flowers of Paradise, the hate and rage of 
hell; the hierarchy on earth, the Church with her 
missions, her colleges, her canon laws, her clergy, 
regular and secular; the splendid adornment of 
her cathedrals, the pious institutions of our fore- 
fathers — all these and more besides, that I cannot 
now recall, burst in upon my soul with tempes- 
tuous force, shaking in their foundations those 


228 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

religious convictions which , imbibed in my child- 
hood, had every year grown with my growth. 

My first feeling was one of rage against the 
writer of a book whose object was to overthrow all 
that I had hitherto regarded as sacred, and call 
upon me to venerate what till then had been an 
abomination to me. It was actually a satisfaction 
to me to know that the man had met his end at the 
hangman’s hands. But this state of mind could 
not last long ; my own good sense told me that an 
outburst of anger was no answer to arguments 
founded on reason, and evidence adduced from 
Holy Writ and from history. So I took up Cam- 
pion’s pamphlet again, and bent my whole mind 
on the endeavour to detect the fallacy on which 
his argument rested, but try as I might, I could 
discover none, and the dawn of day found me in as 
much perplexity as ever. 

As soon as ft was light, I went out into the 
park, to cool my fevered blood in the fresh morning 
air. It then occurred to me that a special commis- 
sion had been appointed by the Queen to answer 
this Jesuit’s pestilential pamphlet. I was in Paris 
at the time, consequently I had heard nothing of 
the controversy. I resolved forthwith to return to 
London ; at my uncle’s house I should be certain 
to find the refutation and the protocol of the com- 
mission, and then it would doubtless be easy work 
to draw the poisoned shaft out of my own and Miss 
Judith’s heart. I determined besides, that as soon 
as this was done, I would ask for the young lady’s 
hand ; for the service I should have rendered her 
would give me a claim to it, and I knew' that the 
Queen approved my suit. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 229 


Hastening back to my chamber, I wrote a note 
to Miss Cecil, telling her that I had read the 
Rationes , and acquainting her with what I intended 
to do. I begged her to make my excuses to the 
Queen, and herself to take no step towards Papistry 
until she had received the report I would give her 
of my investigations. Having sealed the letter, I 
gave it to a servant with orders to deliver it at 
once ; and immediately after breakfast I rode away 
from Richmond, with a far heavier heart, I must 
confess, than I had brought to it the day before. 

While I was waiting at Putney to be ferried 
across the river, I saw Lady Tregian with her three 
children. She had taken the Queen at her word, and 
was actually asking alms for the love of Christ of 
the passers by. She spoke to me, and embittered 
as I was against the Papists, I could not help being 
touched by the humility she showed, and by the 
sweet innocent face of the little girl with whom I 
had been so pleased the day before. I slipped a 
few gold pieces into the child’s hand, and told the 
mother to apply to Walsingham on the same or 
the following day ; I would see if I could get him 
to do something for her. She thanked me, saying 
God would reward me, and that her children should 
pray for me. 

I experienced a feeling of relief, as I crossed 
the river, for a good deed acts as balm upon the 
wounded spirit. My way led me past Tyburn, 
where Campion had ended his days on the gallows, 
while I was still at some distance from it, I noticed 
a stream of people all going in the same direction 
as myself. In answer to my inquiries, I was 


2B0 THE 'WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

informed that two Popish priests were to be hanged 
and quartered for high treason, and I then remem- 
bered hearing this casually mentioned at the Court 
yesterday, as a matter of every day occurrence. I 
never was a friend to these scenes of horror, but 
the anger exited by Campion’s book still glowed 
in my breast, and induced me to make an exception 
for this occasion. So I rode with the crowd to 
Tyburn, where I arrived just as the two condemned 
men were taken from the hurdles and placed in the 
hangman’s cart. I managed to get near enough to 
see them w r ell, and hear all that was said. They 
were young men ; their countenances were pale and 
grave ; but they betrayed none of the fear of death 
that I should have expected idolatrous priests to 
feel when summoned to appear before the judgment 
seat of God. The words they addressed to the 
people, with the halter already around their necks, 
bore the stamp of truth. They died for the ancient 
faith of their forefathers, they said, and w 7 ere traitors 
neither to the Queen nor country. Some of the 
bystanders clamoured for them to be cut down 
before life was extinct, but I am glad to say the 
sheriff did not allow this. When at last he gave 
the order, I rode off, not caring to witness the 
butchery that ensued. 

The heroic and truly Christian manner in 
which these men met death impressed me deeply. 
There was no doubt that they were in good faith, 
confident of the truth of the religion for which they 
suffered. I tried to persuade myself that they 
were duped by the Jesuits, at whose door I was 
fain to lay the death of these innocent persons. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 231 


I did not find Walsingliam at home; he had 
gone *to some meeting of the Privy Council. But 
Gray, the head of the Government offices, a small, 
spare old man, brought me the books I asked for; 
the writings of Aylner, of Jewel, of learned pro- 
fessors of theology at the universities, altogether 
a host of volumes bearing on the subject of Cam- 
pion’s Rationes decern . The protocol of the com- 
mission and the report of the disputation in the 
Tower, the latter written by his own hand, were 
also laid before me. 

“There is plenty of learning in these big books, 
sir,” the old man said. “Greek and Hebrew too.” 
But there is not a complete and conclusive refuta- 
tion amongst them all. Any one who wrote that 
would indeed do good service to the Gospel.” 

I asked him some particulars about the dispu- 
tation in the Tower. He shrugged his shoulders 
and said it had fared ill with Campion. The 
unfortunate man had been tortured on the rack 
within an inch of his life, and half starved to boot ; 
yet he maintained his cause, albeit a bad one, so 
valiantly, that an end had to be put to the debate, 
as the impression produced on the audience was 
the reyerse of what w as desired. Walsingliam had 
foreseen this, and wished a first trial to be made 
before the Privy Council. But our divines were so 
certain of victory, that they would have liked to 
have held it in St. Paul’s. True enough they had 
the better of him as far as voice and elocution 
went ; but whenever a clear, definite answer to his 
arguments was required of them, they had recourse 
to declamation and abuse. In a word, it was a 


232 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

failure; and the commission itself was even worse, 
for our divines began to fall out among themselves. 
“Well, Mr. St. Barbe no offence, sir, but I have 
learnt one lesson from it : Believe what her Majesty 
the Queen, the true Head of the English Church, 
and her Parliament propose for your belief, and 
beware lest you be drawn into controversy on 
matters of faith with the devil and his agents, the 
Jesuits, or you will surely get the worst of it. 
Always barring better understanding and sharper 
judgment, and herewith, I wish your excellence a 
very good day.” 

So saying the dapper little man trotted away. 
I applied myself diligently to the books and the 
reports before me; the more I read of them, the 
more convinced I was of the accuracy of Gray’s 
description of them. So much dry learning, greek 
and latin quotations, heavy argumentation and in- 
conclusive proofs, interlarded with abuse of the 
Pope and his followers, at last, tired and fretful, I 
laid the books aside, and was leaving the house, to 
get a breath of fresh air, when I met my uncle 
coming upstairs. 

He took me into his cabinet, and made me give 
him a full account of what had occurred at Rich- 
mond. He seemed very well pleased with me. 
He laughed Miss Cecil’s difficulties to scorn, and 
said they would die a natural death, as soon as 
she was married, and her idle time filled up with 
the cares of the nursery and the household. “As 
soon as this business about Mary Stuart is done 
with,” he said, “I shall myself ask Burghley and 
her Majesty to give you the young lady’s hand. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 233 


I have just heard something more about Babington 
and his companions. One of the barmaids out 
there at the Blue Boar , played the eavesdropper ; 
they seem really in earnest about those plans and 
mean to attempt the coup. I am afraid my spy 
was rather imprudent, it will not do to let them 
suspect that they are watched. You must try to 
make acquaintance with one or other of them. I 
have a picture here of Babington and all his crew 
which Philipps — that fellow can do everything — 
copied °for me. The likenesses may not be very 
good, but you may know Babington by his costly 
and fashionable clothes. He* is to be seen nearly 
every evening in the Paris Garden , and they have 
a gay boat on the Thames. You might ask them 
to instruct you a little concerning Miss CeciPs 
doubts, and even pretend you wished to become a 
Papist yourself. Those conspirators seem such 
silly fellows, you may catch them with birdlime.” 

At this moment Lady Tregian was announced. 
I began hurriedly to tell my uncle her story, but 
he already knew it all. Her husband was an old 
acquaintance of his. “They are obstinate recu- 
sants, ” he said, but I quite agree with you that they 
must not be allowed to beg in the streets. She 
may join her husband in the Clink, if she chooses. 
She would not be the first lady of noble birth who 
has voluntarily shared her husband’s captivity. 
The children will easily find a home in the house 
of some popish gentlefolks. It is' wonderful how 
willing they are to make sacrifices for one another. 
There are the Bellamys, for instance, at Harrow- 
on-the-Hill; they have nearly ruined themselves 


234 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

through paying fines and assisting priests and other 
Pajfists.” 

I slipped out by a side door, in order not to 
be present at the interview between my uncle and 
the unfortunate lady. Later on I heard that she 
gladly accepted the proposal that she should join 
her husband in prison. The children had been 
taken in, for a time at least, by Lady Paulet, step- 
mother to Sir Amias, and as fervent a Catholic, as 
he was a rabid Puritan. It will readily be imagined 
that the courage and conjugal devotion displayed 
by Lady Tregian — I may here remark that her 
voluntary incarceration lasted for twenty- eight 
years — added to the heroic death of the two young 
priests, together with all that I had read in the 
books, I had been studying, served to strengthen 
the doubts Miss Cecil had already raised in my 
mind. However I determined for the present, as 
far as possible, not to let my thoughts dwell upon 
theological questions, and to follow Gray’s example 
by laying all the responsibility of my religious 
tenets at the door of the Queen and Parliament. 

The next day I went to the Paris Garden and 
asked if Babington was there. He was not ,• but 
he was evidently well known, and I was to]d he 
would probably make his appearance before long. 
To while away the time, I went to the butts, and 
practised pistol shooting. A man who had been 
sitting at a table apart, wrapped in his cloak, with 
a glass of grog before him, followed me, and after 
looking on for a space in silence, remarked that I 
did not seem much used to pistol practice, and 
gave me a few hints. I handed the pistol to him. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 235 


and said I must have a proof of his skill before I took 
him for my master. He replied that an old soldier 
like himself must be an adept at that business, 
and three successive times he hit the heart of the 
Turk, which had been erected as a target. I com- 
plimented him on his dexterity, and looked more 
closely at him ; he was a man of average height 
and muscular built; in walking he dragged one 
leg slightly, the result as I afterwards heard, of a 
wound he received at Antwerp. His complexion 
was pale, but sunburnt; the peculiar expression 
of his eyes, which were shaded by dark bushy 
eyebrows, staggered me a little, and made me ask 
myself whether the man was quite right in his 
mind. There was however nothing in his demeanor 
to strengthen this suspicion. When I had finished 
my number of shots and was about to depart, the 
stranger came up to me and said had he not heard 
me inquiring for one Babington ? I answered in 
the affirmative, and asked if he knew him ? He 
replied that was the very question he was going to 
put to me, giving me at the same time a searching 
look. I wished to make Babington’ s acquaintance, 
I rejoined ; and he said he wished to do so too, ad- 
ding we might perhaps later on become acquainted 
with one another through Mr. Babington. “Very 
possibly,” I replied, and I told him my name. 
“St. Barbe,” he repeated, “I do not think I heard 
that one mentioned. All the same my name is 
Savage, John Savage.” Thereupon he bowed and 
left me. Such was my first introduction to that 
unhappy individual. 

I did not meet with Mr. Babington at either 


236 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

of his accustomed resorts that day, and no wonder, 
for, as the reader has already been told, the whole 
party were at Woxindon, whence they did not 
return until nightfall. I was however with Wal- 
singham on the following day when Babington and 
Windsor were announced. Before they were ad- 
mitted, my uncle concealed me in a closet opening 
out of his private room, only screened off by a 
heavy curtain, and bade me carefully note down 
any disclosures of importance that the visitors 
might make. I could not quite catch all that was 
said, but through an opening in the tapestry I was 
able to observe them at leisure. Of Babington J 
had a full view. When I looked at the gallant 
young fellow, attractive in face and figure, in the 
heyday of youth and prosperity, I felt really sorry 
for him. The horrible scene at Tyburn rose before 
my eyes, and I said to myself, “O foolish man, are 
you aware of the awful risk you run in entering 
the lists with such a one as Walsingham ! 77 

The conversation that passed between my 
uncle and the two young men has already been 
accurately reported by my friend Windsor. When 
they w 7 ere gone, I could not help asking my uncle 
Avhatever induced him to offer one of the conspira- 
tors so responsible a post as that of body physician 
to the Queen of Scots ? 

“I had two motives , 77 he replied. “First I 
wanted to make sure that they really were hatching 
a plot for the liberation of Mary Stuart ; for it is 
difficult to believe that a harum-scarum young 
fellow like this Babington can possibly be engaged 
in a serious conspiracy. However it undoubtedly is 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 237 


so ; Windsor managed to keep his self possession 
tolerably well when I made the startling proposal, 
but the other fairly betrayed himself. Then 
secondly, I wished to make them think themselves 
secure. It is of the utmost importance to me that 
they should attempt this enterprise. Mary Stuart’s 
death depends upon it, as I told you when you 
came back from Paris. And I had reason to think 
they were beginning to get timid about it. Now 
this show of trust on my part will put them com- 
pletely off their guard ; we will see that a sharp 
watch is kept over this Mr. Windsor, who seems 
more to be dreaded than his friend. The surer 
they think themselves of success, the surer we are 
of it. I had the two children released only for the 
sake of keeping the worthy gentlemen in good 
humor. You may as well take them to Mr. Wind- 
sor’s house, and that will afford you an opportuni- 
ty of making acquaintance with the conspirators. 
Give a guinea to Topcliffe, and tell him not to be 
impatient, it will not be long before he has these 
young men in his toils.” 

Soon after Topcliffe came, bringing the two 
juvenile prisoners from Newgate. I remember still 
the impression that Anne Bellamy, herself little 
more than a child, and the merry, bright boy with 
his quaint way of talking made upon me. Nor 
have I forgotten the explanation he gave of image 
worship, which brought all the doubts suggested 
by the Rationes back to my mind. I asked myself 
on what our objections to the Catholic religion 
were founded, if a mere child, half in play, could 
so easily demolish one of the principal ones ? The 


238 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

noteworthy occurrences that took place while we 
were on the river have been duly related by my 
friend Windsor ; nothing therefore remains for me 
but to let him continue the narrative of the events 
that followed. I do this all the more willingly, 
because I should have little to tell concerning my 
last week in London, except my mental struggles, 
which would be quite as wearisome to read as they 
were painful to endure. It was not study that 
brought me to the light, but the exceedingly great 
mercy of God, of which I shall speak in the proper 
place. 

One thing I must add : About this time Gifford 
returned bringing with him a letter from Mary 
Stuart ; thus proving that the means of carrying on 
a secret correspondence through the good offices of 
the “honest man” had been successfully arranged. 

I must now ask Windsor to take up the thread 
of the story where he left it and relate what hap- 
pened subsequently to the memorable boating 
expedition on the Thames. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


Windsor relates how he came to a decision upon a most impor- 
tant question. 

When we got back to the house, we found the 
horses standing before the door ready bridled and 
saddled. We told Tichbourne in as few words as 
possible what had occurred, and prepared to mount. 
Miss Anne rode on a pillion behind Babington, 
after the fashion of those days, and I took little 
Frith up before me on my saddle. Just as we 
were starting, I caught sight of Bill Bell, our boat- 
man, standing by, and I remembered my promise 
to visit his sick daughter that evening. But he 
assured me that she was better, and begged 
me not to delay my journey on her account; so I 
contented myself with sending a message to my 
patient, to the effect that she might expect a call 
from me immediately upon my return, probably on 
the morrow, and meanwhile she should continue to 
take the medicine I had left with her. Then we 
struck into a quick trot, taking the nearest way 
out of London, for it was getting late, and a power- 
ful magnet attracted me to Woxindon. 

The shades of evening were beginning to fall 
before we reached the Blue Boar at St. Giles. We 
drew up under the oaks, and stopped for a few 
moments, just to tell our host of our satisfactory 
interview with Walsingham, and refresh ourselves 
with the stirrup cup of sparkling cider which he 
brought out to us. Then onward we went through 
the meadows — already decked in a deeper shade of 
( 239 ) 


240 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

verdure than when we passed that way before — to 
St. John’s Wood, arriving at our destination about 
the time of sunset. The porter hastened to throw 
open the gate at our approach ; and behold, as we 
rode through the grounds up to the house, a pleasing 
sight met my view, for who should be standing 
between the thick hedges of yew but Miss Mary, 
shading her eyes from the level rays of the setting 
sun, eager to see who was coming through the gate. 
When she discerned her brother and sister, she 
cried aloud with joy, and came running up to kiss 
and embrace them ; and in the delight of this unex- 
pected meeting many a happy, grateful look was 
directed to Babington and me, especially when she 
heard that to our intercession with Walsingham, 
the release of the two prisoners was due. 

We were next conducted into the hall, where 
the venerable old lady sat in her armchair by the 
hearth. She was much shaken by the grief and 
agitation of the last two days ; but her pale face 
flushed, and her eyes beamed with pleasure when 
her two grandchildren, looking bright and well, 
entered the hall. She kissed the laughing boy and 
the blooming girl on their foreheads, and extended 
to each of us a trembling hand. Her two sons 
also came in, besides several old retainers of the 
family, and for a few minutes the hall re-echoed 
with joyous clamour, as if it were forgotten that 
the house was a house of mourning, and that a few 
chambers off, the head of the household lay on his 
bier, still and silent in his last long sleep. 

But when the first congratulations and inqui- 
ries were over, and the good grandmother heard 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 241 


that Frith was to go to Court in the capacity of 
one of the Queen’s pages, her countenance grew 
grave. u Far rather, ’ ’ she said, u would I seethe 
boy taken to Newgate or the Tower, than sent to 
Court, where every effort will be made to corrupt 
his innocence and destroy his faith. ” To this I 
could not say nay, for the same thought had 
occurred to me when Elizabeth expressed her royal 
will to have him for a page. But what could be 
done under the circumstances ? Every one was 
aware of the Queen’s violent temper ; if irritated 
by opposition, she was quite capable of taking the 
child from us by force, and we should only gain 
for ourselves a powerful and unscrupulous enemy. 
So I told the old lady, and she saw the justice of 
what I said. 

I tried to restore cheerfulness to the family 
circle by the prospect that it would not be for long. 
An idea struck me as I was riding down from 
London, which, if we talked it over, might come to 
something. It was a plan for bringing about, with 
the assistance of a man whom I knew well, and who 
was under some obligation to me, the escape of Mr. 
Robert Bellamy from the Clink. If it succeeded, 
he would of course, have to cross seas ; in that case 
it might be arranged for the boy to slip away from 
Court and accompany his uncle to the. continent, 
where he could be received and educated in a 
Jesuit College. It would doubtless be necessary to 
await a favourable opportunity for the execution of 
such a project, but it was not to be supposed that 
in a few weeks, or a few months at most, Frith’s 
morals would be hopelessly corrupted, or his faith 


242 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

undermined. I thought in saying this of our 
scheme for the liberation of Mary Stuart, which if 
carried out, would assuredly necessitate my flight 
to the continent. I told myself that provided Miss 
Mary accepted the offer of my hand, as I had little 
reason to doubt she would, I would persuade her 
to settle in some Catholic town on the Rhine. But 
all this I took care to keep to myself. 

The old lady considered the idea of her son 
Robert attempting to escape from prison as too 
venturesome. But Remy was all the more pleased 
with it on that account ; he volunteered his assist- 
ance, and declared he too would cross the Channel, 
since England was now no place for Catholics to 
live in. 

“Then you had better go at once, and take the 
boy with you,” the old lady suggested. But that 
would have interfered sadly with our plans, it 
would indeed have rendered them nugatory, and 
aroused the Queen’ s displeasure against us. There- 
fore Babington and I exerted all our influence to 
induce them to send the boy for a short time to the 
Court ; urging that it was quite possible that the 
Queen would ere long grant the prisoner’s pardon ; 
whereas if the child were sent aw ay at once, she 
would wreak her anger upon the inmates of Wox- 
indon, or at any rate upon Robert, who was com- 
pletely at her mercy. 

“What is to become of us poor girls, if you 
are all going abroad?” Anne asked in a pitiful 
voice. “Are w r e to be left behind with uncle 
Barthy and grandmother, unprotected and help- 
less ? What a miserable thing it is to be a woman, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 243 


dependent upon the will of another ! If I were but 
a man, I know what I would do!” 

Babington was so touched by this outburst of 
feeling on the part of the young lady, that he 
declared then and there, she should never want a 
protector while he lived, and if the estate were 
confiscated by the Crown, he would be proud to 
offer her a home. This speech evidently afforded 
the greatest satisfaction to Anne, more so than to 
her grandmother, who gave the young man plainly 
to understand that under existing circumstances 
she considered such gallanteries ill-timed. I was 
glad that I had kept silence, and contented myself 
with exchanging with Anne’s sister a glance, of 
which the blush that mantled her cheek showed 
that she comprehended the significance. 

After a lengthened discussion it was decided 
that Frith should go to Court; but before giving a 
final consent, the old lady wished to ask the opinion 
of Father Weston, who was still in hiding in the 
old Castle. One of the servants had already been 
sent to conduct the priest with all precautions, to 
the house; for it was thought that without too 
great risk he might say mass before daybreak in 
the chamber where the corpse lay, and recite the 
prayers for the departed. 

Frith, who could no longer keep his eyes open, 
was sent off to bed; Mrs. Bellamy and the two 
girls also retired, leaving Babington and myself, 
with the two brothers of the deceased, to await 
the coming of the priest. We occupied ourselves 
in reciting the Psalter of Jesus for the suffering 
souls, uncle Barthy taking the lead with great 


244 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

devotion ; we had almost got to the end when 
Father Weston entered. He would not allow us to 
break off, but joined us in the last sentences, and 
the Ave and Requiescat wherewith we concluded. 
Then he seated himself at the table and partook of 
a slight refreshment, conversing meanwhile very 
agreeably with us. I need hardly say that he 
listened with the greatest interest to the adventures 
of the children, and our interview with the Queen. 
His eyes sparkled with pleasure when we told him 
how Frith had distinguished himself as a contro- 
versialist; but on hearing of Elizabeth’s command, 
he looked very grave. He would not give a definite 
answer, when we asked his opinion concerning the 
plan we had formed, saying he must have time to 
think over a matter which so closely affected the 
child’s spiritual welfare, and seek light from God 
in the holy sacrifice of the mass. He asked how- 
ever at once, whether we had not thought of sending 
the boy abroad directly as the simplest way out of 
the difficulty, and the answer Babington gave, did 
not seem to satisfy him. He looked searcliingly at 
the speaker ; then rising up he asked leave to retire, 
that he might prepare himself for saying mass. 
Though he was but young, I felt from the outset 
perfect confidence in the good Father, his manner 
was so quiet and unassuming, so simple and 
straightforward, I determined to go to confession 
to him, and ask what he thought about my 
acceptance of Walsingham’s proposal. 

Having obtained permission to go to his room 
as soon as I was ready, I withdrew from the others 
in order to examine my conscience. This done, I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 245 

presented myself before the priest, and made a 
humble and contrite confession of my sins and 
shortcomings, which were alas ! not few in number ; 
when he had set me my penance, and was about to 
pronounce the absolution, I told him I wished under 
the seal of confession, to ask his advice about an 
affair of importance. Then, without mentioning 
any names, I disclosed our project to him, and 
acquainted him with the offer Walsingham had 
made to give me the post of physician to the Queen 
of Scots. He kept silence for some time, then he 
questioned me concerning our design, the means 
whereby we proposed to execute it, and particularly 
about the qualifications of the persons who had 
pledged themselves to this undertaking. When I 
told him there were six young men of good family, 
ardent Catholics, about my own age, he sighed, 
and again for a while said nothing. I thought 
he was seeking to know the will of God in this 
matter. Presently I broke the silence by inquiring 
whether he did not think our enterprise permis- 
sible? To me and to my friends it appeared chival- 
rous and meritorious in a high degree. He replied 
that in itself the release of an innocent person from 
unjust imprisonment, provided no unlawful means 
were employed, was certainly a ligitimate and laud- 
able action, and this principle held good in the 
case of Mary Stuart, whose captivity for eighteen 
years on account of her faith was an open violation 
of justice. But even a good deed may become 
wrong, if it could be foreseen that it would be 
attended with disastrous consequences, for pru- 
dence was one of the Cardinal virtues. And in 


246 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the event of the attempt proving abortive, I must 
be aware that the results would be fatal not only to 
those who had taken part in it, but to the captive 
herself ; nay, to all the Catholics of England, who 
already groaned under a cruel persecution. And 
what I told him of the youth of the conspirators 
augured ill for the success of their project. But 
what caused him the most apprehension was the 
attitude Walsingham had assumed; there was no 
doubt he had got wind of the plot, and the wily 
statesman thought to throw us off our guard by his 
friendly advances, in order when the right moment 
came, to crush the whole concern with one blow, 
and the Queen of Scots perchance with it. He 
begged us for God’s sake to have nothing to do 
with a man who was so infinitely superior to us in 
cunning. I then explained that I had sworn to 
stand by my friends in their attempt to deliver 
Mary Stuart, and unless he authoritatively assured 
me that it was sinful, I should not depart from my 
word. Moreover, I thought the plan would succeed ; 
we had agreed to ask the consent of the prisoner 
herself, so that she would be prepared like our- 
selves, to bear the consequences of possible failure. 
And in speaking of the evil results that might be 
anticipated, one must not forget the good results 
that would follow upon the release of the Queen ; 
and considering the flagrant injustice of keeping 
her captive, one might reckon on the help of God 
in so good a cause. 

When the good Father saw that my mind was 
made up, and that I was fully convinced of the 
lawfulness of our enterprise, he no longer dissuaded 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 247 

me from it, but only asked whether any attempt on 
Elizabeth’s life was connected with it! He was 
evidently relieved by the emphatic denial I gave. 
I then asked him what he thought about my accept- 
ance of the post Walsingham offered me, for that 
was the point on which I was most anxious for his 
advice. He replied that it was quite evident, that 
such an extraordinary proposal on Walsingham’ s 
part was a trap of some kind, but what his partic- 
ular design was, was not so equally apparent. 
Perhaps her enemies meant to administer poison 
to the prisoner, and the appointment of a Catholic 
physician was intended as a blind. He had heard 
on good authority that hints of her assassination 
had been given to Sir Amias Paulet, but he, despite 
his hatred of Catholics, had repudiated them indig- 
nantly. On the other hand it was obvious that my 
presence at Cliartley, even for a few hours, would 
greatly facilitate the execution of our project. He 
must leave the decision to me, only imploring me 
to be continually on my guard, and bear in mind 
with how artful and determined a man I had to 
deal. If I embarked in this perilous undertaking, 
it was doubly imperative upon me to keep my 
conscience clean, as I might be called at any moment 
to appear before the judgment seat of God. I must 
be prepared for a violent death, and so must my 
friends. Then in a touching exhortation, he pointed 
out to me that it was not by means of political i>lots 
and int rigues, but by prayer and suffering, yea, by 
the blood of her martyrs, that the Church must 
hope to prevail in England. And when he had 
awakened me to contrition and repentance for all 
the sins of my past life, he gave me absolution. 


248 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

It was about two in the morning, when we all 
assembled in the upper chamber where Richard 
Bellamy had died, and where he was laid out. The 
windows were carefully curtained, lest a ray of 
light might betray us; trusty servants were sta- 
tioned at the doors and on the staircase, lest the 
pursuivants should again surprise us. The priest 
said a requiem mass ; the old lady, uncle Barthy, 
Miss Mary and myself, received Holy Communion. 
Afterwards Father Weston recited the Libera , 
sprinkled the coffin with holy water, scattering in 
it a handful of consecrated earth, in order that the 
departed might not be entirely deprived of the 
ceremonial of the Church. The duty of interring 
his mortal remains in the family vault in the des- 
ecrated churchyard must be left to the Protestant 
minister. A few words of consolation and admo- 
nition were addressed to us by Father Weston; 
then he unvested, and cautiously concealed the 
sacred vessels in a hiding place constructed in the 
wall ; we meanwhile said the rosary for the soul of 
the departed 

After breakfast, Father Weston took little 
Frith with him into the room where I had made 
my confession the night before, and kept him there 
some time. On his return, he said it was much to 
be wished that the child should leave the country 
at once, but as this might bring us into trouble, he 
would not oppose his going to Court for a short 
-period, trusting that he would be preserved from 
harm. He had told him what he must do and 
whither he must fly if sorely pressed by temptation. 
Thus the question was settled. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 249 


In the afternoon of the same day I rode back 
to London with Babington, and on the way told 
him what Father Weston had been saying to me. 
He made very light of it, and said not long before 
he had consulted the Jesuit about the same thing, 
and received a similar answer. These learned the- 
ologians were not capable of any daring stroke, 
such as alone would be of avail at the present 
juncture ; let it once be carried out and crowned 
with success, they. would be ready enough to give 
it their approval. In general, Babington had not 
a good word to say of Father Weston, because, as 
I afterwards learnt, he had advised him to put all 
thought of the enterprise out of his mind, telling 
him to his face that he was not the man to conduct 
it, and he did not see in what manner he could ever 
escape out of Walsingham’s snares x ). I also dis- 
cussed the matter with Tichbourne ; he too inclined 
to the Jesuit’s opinion. For one more day I post- 
poned the decision, then, weary of the continual 
pro and con, I made my choice. 

“The die is cast!” I said to Tichbourne. “I 
am going to-day to W alsingham to accept Chartley . ’ ’ 

“May you never repent it!” he answered, and 
gave me some counsel, as to how I was to keep 
behind Walsingham. They were of little or no 
use. The Secretary of State seemed glad to hear 
my decision, which was evidently what he expected, 
and said some kind things about my brother, Lord 
Windsor, who, he hoped, would consider my ap- 
, pointment to this post as a service done to himself. 
He asked when I thought of going to Chartley, and 


2 ) Life of Father Weston, p. 185. seq. 


250 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I replied it was for him to determine that. Then 
he fixed the Monday after Camtate Sunday, and 
said if I had no objection, his nephew St. Barbe 
would accompany me, as he had some messages to 
carry to the Queen and to Sir Amias. But before 
that we must both go to Court, and take thither the 
funny little fellow, who had lately made acquaint- 
ance with her Majesty in so unceremonious a manner. 
A fortunate child is that, he said, to have found 
favour with the Queen at so early an age ; the 
highest honours and dignities will be within his 
grasp. Thereupon he took leave of me as kindly 
as at the close of our first interview, so that I said 
to myself Father Weston had perhaps been some- 
what hasty in his judgment of the man’s intentions. 
Nor did his sending his nephew with me awaken 
any suspicions, for I thought from the first that he 
appeared an honorable sort of man. 

When I left Walsingham, I took my way home- 
ward through St. Catharine’s Docks, for the purpose 
of paying Bill Bell’s daughter a visit. I found her 
much better, wonderfully better, so much so that I 
would have backed her to live through the summer. 
This seemed to me an indication of Providence that 
I did well to go to Chartley, so ready are we to see 
the finger of God, when it points in the same 
direction as our own wishes. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The reader hears of a happy betrothal and of another less 
fortunate courtship. 

The next few days were wet and cheerless, 
days whereby April is wont to check the. too rapid 
advance of Spring. By me they were spent in 
making preparations and concerting our plans of ac- 
tion ; for I had determined to give my friends advice 
immediately, should I find the royal captive willing 
to make her escape, as soon as a favourable 
opportunity for the attempt presented itself. 
Salisbury and Barnewell forthwith set out on the 
way to Lancashire, for the purpose of gaining a 
knowledge of the route, bespeaking a relay of 
horses, and making terms with the skipper of a 
fishing smack, who would transport the fugitives 
to Xormandy. Babington was to leave London the 
same day that I did. He was going to his estate 
at Dethick, in the neighbourhood of Chartley, to 
make the necessary arrangements, but not by the 
direct road, for fear of awakening suspicion. 

Xow it happened that on the Saturday before 
Jubilate Sunday the weather changed, and nature 
once more rejoiced in the bright Spring sunshine. 
I rode to Woxindon in the afternoon. The hope of 
hearing a Sunday mass there was sufficient excuse 
for my reappearance, after so short an interval ; 
besides I had promised to fetch Frith on the follow- 
ing Monday, as we were to take him to Richmond 
to be i) resented to the Queen on Tuesday. I had 
also made up my mind to profit by the first 
( 251 ) 


252 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

suitable occasion to plead my cause with the young 
lady whose charms, as I could no longer conceal 
from myself, had completely enslaved my heart and 
my fancy. 

As I rode slowly through St. John’s Wood, I 
noted the change that the last few days had effect- 
ed. The tender green of the beeches had burst 
through the brown sheaths, and the young leaves 
glistened in the sunlight, while a light wind gently 
shook to the ground the pearly drops left by the 
recent rain. . Even the oaks, always later in com- 
ing into leaf, showed signs of awakening life. The 
birds warbled and twittered as they flitted among 
the branches, already intent on the business of 
nest-building. In a sunny, sheltered spot, the first 
wild flowers of the year caught my eye ; I dis- 
mounted and gathered as great a variety as I could 
find of these fair Spring blossoms : golden cow- 
slips, fragile wood-anemones, blue-bells and stel- 
laria, pale primroses and deliciously scented vio- 
lets nestling under the protecting leaves. These I 
carefully arranged and bound together with some 
stalks of long grass so as to form a simple and 
elegant nosegay. 

I was riding onward with it in my hand, when 
suddenly I was startled out of my reverie by a joy- 
ous shout. It was Frith’s voice ; the little fellow 
came running to meet me. And who did I see 
somewhat further on, sitting under the beech tree, 
but his sister Mary, a quantity of flowers by her 
side, which she was dexterously weaving into a 
wreath. 

I sprang from the saddle and went up to her. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 253 


She shook hands with me in a very cordial manner, 
and explained that the garland she was mak- 
ing was to be hung on the cross, which had been 
put up in the garden, near her mother’s grave under 
the great oak , to her father’ s memory. 6 ‘ But I see, ’ ’ 
she added, “you too have been gathering flowers. 
How tastefully they are arranged ! ’ ’ 

“Do you like the little posy, Miss Bellamy!” 
I answered. “I meant it for you when I made it 
up, if you will do me the honour to accept it, as a 
token of the great esteem and affection I feel for 
you.” 

She looked up at me with a heightened colour. 
Then to my vexation she called to her brother, who 
was running off in search of more flowers : “Stop 
here, Frith, we have plenty of flowers ; we will go 
home directly with Mr. Windsor.” It was evident 
that she wished to avoid being alone with me, 
whereas that was exactly what I was wishing for. 
Was it maidenly modesty that prompted her, or 
did she wish to prevent a declaration on my part! 
At any rate I was resolved to speak and make her 
listen to me. Again I asked her if she would ac- 
cept my nosegay! She replied: “Oh certainly!” 
The sweet flowers could be put with the others in 
the wreath she was making. But perceiving that 
this was not what I wanted, she said with some 
embarrassment of manner, it was a pity to pull to 
pieces a bunch so prettily arranged, might she take 
it home for her grandmother! I said yes, provided 
she would at the same time tell her grandmother 
something that I had to say to her presently. She 
gave me a questioning look out of her blue eyes. 


254 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

and went on silently and busily with her work, 
Frith handing her the leaves and blossoms as she 
required them. 

The wreath was soon finished and we got up to 
go. I lifted Frith into the saddle and put the reins 
into his hand, for my horse was so gentle, I knew 
he could be trusted with him. At first the boy 
rode along the narrow path at a foot’s pace, in ac- 
cordance with the injunctions of his sister, who 
followed with me. But as I had anticipated, this 
was too slow a mode of procedure for the active 
little fellow, who contrived with hand and foot to 
urge his steed into a trot, so that he was soon 
some distance ahead of us, for all Miss Mary might 
do or say. 

I was not going to let slip the opportunity 
that thus presented itself, and with a beating 
heart I craved my companion’s indulgence, beg- 
ging her to listen to me for a few moments. She 
dropped her eyes with a conscious look, and be- 
gan toying with my posy which she was carry- 
ing. But when I tried to deliver the speech that 
I had prepared, I could not bring out a single 
sentence, although I am not generally at a loss 
for words. I stammered out a kind of apology, 
saying I was well aware that the present mo- 
ment, when her father was only just laid in his 
grave, was no fitting time to speak on such a 
subject, but it was a question of now or never, 
as I was on the eve of leaving London for a long 
period, and perhaps should shortly quit the country 
for good and all. I was much gratified to perceive 
how startled Miss Mary was at this intelligence, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 255 


for it showed me that I had been right in believ- 
ing that she was not indifferent to me. Thus 
encouraged, without further preamble, I asked 
her could she love me a little, and might I cher- 
ish the hope, that when I was in a position to 
offer her a home, I might claim her for my bride? 

She changed colour, and two large tears 
rolled slowly down her cheeks, as she timidly 
answered : “Perhaps I ought not to reply to such 
a question in this season of bereavement, but if 
I am to ask my own heart, it will not say nay.” 

At these words heaven seemed open to me, 
and in my delight I wanted to take her in my 
arms. But this she would not allow; indeed she 
said perhaps she had already said too much, for 
she must make the stipulation that the consent 
of her grandmother, who stood to her in the po- 
sition of a mother, should be asked ; and until it 
was obtained there should be no more talk 
of love between us. To this I was obliged to 
agree ; and little more was said until we reached 
the garden gate, where Frith, who had already 
taken my horse round to the stables, met us 
with the garland. We took it from him, and 
together went to hang it on the cross under the 
great oak. 

Shortly after I repaired to the house, and asked 
to see Mrs. Bellamy. I found her at needlework 
in a small, built-out room ; she received me very 
kindly, and asked me to sit down. After the ex- 
change of the usual civilities, I summoned up 
courage, seeing my nosegay in a glass on the table, 
to ask whether Miss Mary had delivered a message 


256 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

from me when she brought the flowers. The old 
lady laid down her work, and said her granddaugh- 
ter told her that I had a word to say to her. There- 
upon I opened my heart to her. She replied that 
as I remarked, within a week of her son’s funeral, 
one would hardly choose to speak of love and mar- 
riage; but the exceptional circumstances under 
which we lived in England must be our excuse. “I 
tell you quite openly,” she said, “that I have per- 
sonally not a word to say against you. Our ac- 
quaintance is not one of long standing, but the 
events under which it was made, and all that has 
since occurred, have given me an insight into your 
character, showing you to be a staunch adherent of 
the Catholic faith, and possessed of all the qualities 
of heart and mind which I should wish to see in the 
husband I should choose for Mary. Since there- 
fore you tell me, what indeed I have already found 
out for myself, that she loves you well enough to 
join her lot to yours, I will gladly consent to your 
union, as soon as you can provide her with a com- 
fortable, though not a luxurious home.” 

I kissed the hand of. the venerable dame, 
thanking her for her kind expressions in my re- 
gard, though I must acknowledge that in the good- 
ness of her heart she much overrated my gifts and 
qualities. I stated it to be my determination to 
wait until my future was fully secured, before mak- 
ing Miss Mary a formal offer of marriage. Then I 
spoke of my project of settling abroad, on accouht 
of the difficulties that beset Catholics in the prac- 
tice of their religion in England, difficulties that 
every year became greater. I said I had deposited 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 257 


a considerable sum of money with a merchant in 
Cologne, and if later on matters took a turn for the 
better in our country, as I confidently believed 
they would, there would always be the small estate 
I had inherited from my mother in Cornwall to 
which to return. I asked if she would be pre- 
pared to take up her abode with us on the Rhine? 
She smiled sadly and shook her head, saying 
she was too old a tree to be transplanted, and 
she hoped her last resting place would be on 
English soil. Yet she approved of my plan. 

We then spoke of the more immediate future. 
I told her that in a week’s time I w r as going to 
Chartley as body physician to the Queen of Scots, 
at which she was very much astonished, instantly 
inquiring how I had obtained the post. She also 
put a great many other questions to me ; I did not 
give her a hint of our plot, for I was sworn to 
secrecy ; but she suspected the truth, and warned 
me against Babington, and any foolhardy schemes 
he might devise on behalf of the captive Queen. 
She also warned me against trusting Walsingham, 
in almost the same words Father Weston had 
employed. I promised to be very guarded in 
pledging myself to any design of which my con- 
science did not approve. Finally she said she 
would speak to her granddaughter, and give me a 
decided, she hoped a favourable answer, before 
my departure from Woxindon. 

I thanked her, and was about to leave the 
room, when my little friend Frith came running in, 
to say that Babington had arrived, and had brought 
him a beautiful new velvet cap with a heron’s 


258 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

feather. I then remembered that the host of the 
Blue Boar told me when I stopped there on my 
way out, that Babington had been there only a few 
hours before. Thinking of other things I had 
forgotten all about it, and did not in the least 
expect to meet him at Woxindon. The reason of 
his coming was to.be explained later on. 

Before supper time, I went into the garden, to 
take a few turns upon the terrace, to enjoy the soft 
air and watch the setting sun. Just as I got out I 
saw Miss Anne coming from the outbuildings, very 
much heated, as if she had been walking quickly. 
She started on seeing me, and appeared at first as 
if she wished to avoid me ; but the next minute 
she advanced to meet me with a pleasant greeting, 
while she stroked from her brow her somewhat 
disorderly hair. She had been for a ramble in the 
wood, she said, and had climbed up on to the old 
tower. There was a beautiful view from thence, 
would I like to accompany her thither, to see the 
sunset? We should just have time before supper. 

I willingly assented, and she guided me through 
the copse, already out in full leaf, to the old castle. 
We clambered over the ruined walls, covered with 
moss and all manner of plants, until we reached 
the foot of the principal tower, whose massive 
stone walls, notwithstanding various cliffs and 
fissures, still bid defiance to wind and storm. I 
could perceive no means of gaining access to the 
tower, the doors of which were, as is frequently 
the case, at a considerable height from the ground, 
only to be reached from one of the adjacent build- 
ings by means of a drawbridge. The place where 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 259 


this had been was plainly discernible, amid the ivy 
that clothed the ancient edifice. My companion 
solved the difficulty by leading the way through a 
thicket to another side of the tower, where one 
could climb to a considerable height on one of the 
outer walls of the castle, and thus reach a loophole, 
the sides of which had crumbled away, and which 
was almost concealed by a curtain of ivy. Thus 
we gained ingress to the interior ; beneath our feet 
lay a vaulted chamber, Father Weston’s hiding 
place, as I afterwards learnt, while a spiral stair- 
case, in a state of tolerable preservation, construct- 
ed in the masonry of the tower, conducted to the 
platform of a projecting turret. 

When we reached the summit we let our gaze 
wander over the fair landscape spread out before 
us like a panorama, beautified by the golden rays 
of the setting sun. Anne told me the names of 
the different villages that lay on the banks of the 
Thames, and on the far reaching plains of Middle- 
sex. Then we stood for some time without speak- 
ing, contemplating the peaceful scene, no sound 
disturbing the silence except the shrill cries of the 
swallows as they whirled in wide circles round 
the tower. 

When the sun disappeared below the horizon, 
and the distance grew hazy, Miss Anne warned me 
that it was time to return. As I reluctantly moved 
away, after a last lingering look, my eye fell upon 
a little pocket-book, elegantly bound in parchment, 
that lay upon the stone parapet. I immediately 
recognized it as belonging to Babington ; I had 
frequently seen it in his possession, besides, it 
bore his initials stamped in gilt on the cover. 


260 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“Why, this is Babington’ s pocket-book! How- 
ever came it here? ” I exclaimed, as I took it in 
my hand. 

At these words Miss Anne, who had already 
reached the stair steps, turned back with a hasty 
ejaculation, and snatched it from me. Then, aware 
that she had betrayed herself, she coloured violent- 
ly, saying: “For God’s sake, dear Mr. Windsor, do 
not let my grandmother or my sister know of this ! ” 

I felt for the poor girl’s confusion, and as 1 
did not doubt that Babington’s intentions were 
honourable, I did not feel called to play the 
preacher or act the informer. However, I was not 
a little annoyed with him for having persuaded 
the innocent, but rather giddy child to meet him 
clandestinely at the old tower, and I begged Miss 
Anne to be guilty of no such imprudences in future, 
since she knew how much her relatives would ob- 
ject to them. She was very penitent, and entreated 
me not to reveal her secret, but as I was Babing- 
ton’s friend, she did not mind telling me that she 
had secretly engaged herself to him before her 
father’s death. Her grandmother was so terribly 
prejudiced against Babington, that she would never 
consent to their betrothal; yet they suited one 
another so well, and Babington was such a dear, 
pleasant fellow, she would never give him up. If 
I would only keep my own counsel, and not say a 
syllable to anyone, she would help me in my court- 
ship of her sister, for she had seen very plainly 
that I was in love with Mary. 

Thus she ran on while we wended our way 
homewards, and I gave her to understand that all 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 261 


was pretty well arranged between her sister and 
myself, and her grandmother approved of the 
match. She looked very much surprised, and said 
what a hypocrite Mary was, for she had told her 
nothing about it ; and when I turned the tables on 
her, by asking if she had confided anything about 
the view from the tower to her sister, she said the 
case was different, as in this instance concealment 
was necessary, on account of the unreasonable dis- 
like her grandmother had for Babington. 

We got back just in time for supper. Nothing 
noteworthy happened till after morning prayers on 
the following day. Uncle Barthy acted as chaplain, 
for Father Weston had gone on a mission to the 
midland counties. 

I was walking in the garden, chatting with 
Frith, when I heard a horse led round from the 
stables, and wondering who could be going out 
riding on Sunday morning, I went round to the 
front door. To my surprise I found it was Bab- 
ington. He was evidently in a state of great irri- 
tation ; when he saw me, he shook his riding- whip 
at me angrily, exclaiming: “You tell-tale, you old 
tell-tale !” Then he struck his mare so violently 
that she reared and nearly threw him. I called to 
him to stop and tell me what was the matter ; but 
he was off like a shot and soon out of sight in the 
forest. A few moments later I encountered Miss 
Anne, in tears and much agitated. She taxed me 
with my treachery; this explained the mystery. 
The old lady had been told of the meetings in the 
old tower, and had taken Babington to task about 
it; and finding he made light of her reprimand, 


262 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

had forthwith forbidden him the house. I was 
suspected of having been the mischief-maker. 

I could not help feeling much annoyed, for my 
friendly relations with Babington were not merely 
disturbed, but permanently destroyed by this un- 
toward incident. Even when at a later period he 
discovered that the old serving-man John, had 
carried the information to his mistress, he held 
aloof from me still, and thus I lost all opportunity 
I might have had of influencing him for good. 

But my vexation was almost wholly forgotten in 
the happiness that awaited me that same Sunday. 
In the afternoon I was called up into the upper 
chamber, that I knew so well. There I found the 
venerable dame, and my dear Mary. The former 
called my attention to the wonderful flower ; I 
had often looked at it before, now it was fully 
developed, and all the fine rosy blossoms were 
unfolded. I had never in all my life seen the like 
of it, nor could I conceive how the plant could 
possibly draw sap and moisture out of the dry 
cement in which its roots were fixed. When I 
made this remark to the old lady, she replied that 
she regarded the wonderful growth of this plant 
as a special mark of divine favour, and on that 
account it was to her a source of continual conso- 
lation. For although in itself it was a natural 
flower, it could not have sprouted and grown in 
such a place without supernatural interference. 
That was why she had asked me to come up thither; 
she wished that beneath God’s little flower, as she 
called it, Mary and I should pledge our troth, and 
seal our engagement with a kiss. For although a 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 263 


public engagement was not to be thought of in 
consequence of their recent bereavement, yet Mary 
had decided upon giving me the promise I desired 
without further delay. 

There is no need to describe the happiness I 
felt, when my love and I clasped hands, and our 
lips met for the first time. Standing beneath the 
wonderful flower, the white-haired grandmother 
laid her trembling hand upon the shoulder of each 
of us, and made the sign of the cross upon our 
foreheads; for it was not with thoughtless levity, 
but as becomes children of the saints, that we 
entered upon the contract which was the first step 
towards the union we looked forward to in the 
solemn sacrament of marriage. 

Thus our betrothal took place on Jubilate 
Sunday, A. D. 1586. 

How many tears were yet to be shed before 
the joyous day of our nuptials! 



CHAPTER XX. 


Windsor repairs to Chartley, and is presented to Mary 
Stuart as her physician. 

Of our visit to the Court there is but little to 
say. On the appointed day Babington and I, ac- 
companied by St. Barbe, took little Frith, habited in 
new and gay attire, to Richmond. But as the Queen 
happened to be unwell or out of temper, she did not 
leave her apartments that day, and we waited in 
vain amongst the crowd of courtiers. St. Barbe 
and I had to repair to Chartley the next day, so we 
asked the Lord Chamberlain, who had charge of 
the pages, to look after the boy. St. Barbe also 
very kindly wrote a note to Miss Cecil, asking her 
to take some notice of the little orphan. Then I 
kissed him, he being now my future brother-in- 
law, and enjoined on him be careful never to for- 
get to say his prayers ; for the rest he must keep 
up his spirits, and try to improve in all the knight- 
ly exercises in which the pages were trained. With 
a smiling face he bade us good-bye, but I saw that 
his blue eyes were full of tears. Xo doubt he cried 
a little at first finding himself among strangers ; 
but children’s tears are like April showers, soon 
succeeded by sunshine. 

The next morning we left London betimes. 
The sun had only just risen as we passed through 
Harrow-on -the-Hill, and its rays gilded the vanes 
on the towers of Woxindon. My eyes naturally 
turned in that direction, and lo ! in the gable win- 
dow of that upper room a figure was to be seen, 
( 264 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 265 


waving a white handkerchief in loving greeting. It 
is needless to say that I returned the salutation. 
My companion did not seem in a talkative mood, 
so I had all the more opportunity to contemplate, 
at my leisure, the simple beauty of the country 
through which we passed ; the streams and val- 
leys, the rivers and woods wherein I always find 
delight. Yes, I love a rural life, and on the day 
in question I felt inclined to envy the lot of the 
swain, who cultivates the ground, far removed 
from strife and contest, and to exclaim with 
Yirgil : 

0 fortunatos nimium , sua si bona norint , 

Agricolas! quibus ipsa , procul discordibus armis , 

Fundit humo facilem victum justissima tellus! 

(O too happy husbandman, did you but know 
your good fortune ; to whom the earth of its own 
accord, far from the discordant clang of arms, 
pours upon the ground an abundant and easy 
livelihood.) 

1 tried to engage my companion in conver- 
sation about the pleasures of country life, and 
the description given of it in the Georgies ; but he 
seemed to care more for serious subjects, and his 
tongue ouce loosed, he engaged me in a contro- 
versy upon religious topics. I have always been 
averse to disputing about matters of faith with 
those who think differently to myself, for I believe 
it seldom ends otherwise than in mutual embitter- 
ment. However, I considered myself bound to 
defend my creed, and to answer the questions ad- 
dressed to me. So I repelled St. Bar he’s attacks 
to the best of my power, and it must be admitted 


266 THE ■WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

that I found him far more considerate and open to 
reason than Puritans usually are. In fact I was 
led to hope that I might succeed in convincing him 
of the truth of our religion. Thus we beguiled the 
way, and our differences did not prevent us from 
being good friends when, at the close of the second 
day, we rode into Burton-on-Trent. Still St. Barbe 
persisted that there was too much of human inven- 
tion in our faith to allow him to acknowledge it as 
the truth. 

In the Green Dragon at Burton I was introduced 
to Tommy Bulky. I could not help laughing when 
I saw the man, so exactly did he resemble one of 
his own casks. He seemed at first a little offended 
at my mirth, but after a whispered query to my 
companion, who nodded assent, he came forward 
and held out his plump hand, saying : “Well, sir, 
as you are the physician to the prisoner at Chart- 
ley, whose coming was announced to me, I will not 
quarrel with you, considering that I supply the 
royal lady and all her household with beer, and 
such beer, sir, as you will not find equalled in all 
Christendom, a better medicine I take it than all 
your doctors 7 drugs. Just look at me, sir! Let 
me tell you I am a disciple of the pure Gospel, and 
do not believe anything that cannot be proved by 
the Word of God . 77 

“Take care what you are saying, Master 
Brewer , 77 I rejoined. I never heard of any test in 
the Bible to prove the medicinal virtue of beer, 
whereas St. Paul recommends the use of wine to 
St. Timothy: “Use a little wine for thy stomach 7 s 
sake . 77 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 267 


“Is it so, sir? Do you really mean to say that 
there is nothing about beer in the Bible? That 
is the strongest argument I ever heard against 
the pure Gospel, and I shall speak to our 
preacher, the godly Master Bitterstone, about it. 77 
Then he struck his clenched fist on the table, 
adding: “Be that as it may, I am pretty sure 
that if St. Paul had tasted our beer, he would 
not have recommended wine to Timothy, but ale, 
and none other than our good Burton ale . 77 

We both laughed at this sally, and parted from 
the fat brewer the best of friends. 

Early the next morning St. Barbe and I rode 
over to Chartley. He was admitted at once ; I 
had to wait at least an hour in the porter 7 s lodge, 
during which time I vainly endeavoured to elicit 
some information respecting the imprisoned Queen 
from the surly porter. Presently a serving man 
came to conduct me to the part of the castle where 
Sir Amias Paulet, the castellan, had his apart- 
ments. I was received with scant courtesy ; in- 
stead of returning my salute, the churlish knight 
snarled at me like a savage dog, muttering some- 
thing about Popish vagabonds. I therefore asked 
rather haughtily what he took me for? Was he not 
aware that I was brother to Lord Windsor, and that 
it was by Walsingham 7 s desire that I had come 
to Chartley to offer my medical services to the 
Queen of Scots? Thereupon he condescended so 
far as to offer [me a chair, and to give me my 
instructions as to the course of conduct I was to 
pursue. The main point was this : I was as a 
rule only to see his prisoner once a week, and 


268 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

in his presence ; I was besides to pledge myself 
on oath to converse with her on no other subject 
but the condition of her health, and neither to 
convey to her, or receive from her, any informa- 
tion in writing. 

I refused point blank to submit to these con 
ditions. As for the first, he must understand 
how impossible it would be for the Queen to 
speak to me of her symptoms in his presence ; I 
declared myself willing, however, to give my 
word of honour not to treat with her on any 
matter inimical to the Queen or to the welfare 
of the State, nor to deliver to or take from her 
any letters. We could not come to terms until 
St. Barbe was called in to put an end to the dis- 
pute. He had some trouble in persuading this 
Cerberus to content himself with my promise, 
which was to be given on the Bible. Here fresh 
difficulties arose, for only under protest would I 
lay my hand upon the Protestant version of the 
Scriptures, which Sir Amias produced. But after 
a good deal of grumbling he let that pass, and 
asked me if I wished to pay my first visit to his 
prisoner at once. 

I answered in the affirmative, and he con- 
ducted me up a narrow winding staircase, open- 
ing a heavy door, bound with iron clamps, which he 
studiously locked behind him with a massive key. 
I found myself in a vaulted passage, in the up- 
per story, out of which several apartments opened 
on the right and on the left. This corridor was 
lighted by a window at each end. But it was 
impossible to get from these rooms to the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXJNDON. 269 

windows, or to the doors, which led to other stair- 
cases, because they were shut off by an iron 
grating. Before one of these a sentry was sta- 
tioned, who could keep the whole corridor in 
view, unless he was wrapped in sweet slumber, 
as he appeared to have been, when the rattling 
of Sir Annas’ keys aroused him. 

On my companion’s voice being heard, a man 
of short stature, dressed in black, came out of 
one of the doors, and stepping up to the grating 
as it was slowly rolled back, asked with a ceremo- 
nious bow, what Sir Amias wished? 

“Tell your mistress, that the physician about 
whom I spoke to her has come, and desires to pay 
his respects to her,” the knight answered, adding 
as he closed the gate behind him : “Be quick, Mr. 
Nau, I have no time to lose.” 

The secretary looked at me in a scrutinizing 
but not unkindly manner, and leading tlie way into 
an antechamber, said he would immediately apprise 
her Majesty of our visit. He knocked at the door 
of an inner room, and gave the message to one of 
the waiting-women, who appeared at his summons, 
and who eyed me with no slight curiosity. After 
waiting for a few moments, a delay at which my 
conductor chafed and fretted, the door reopened, 
and we were invited to enter. The reception room 
into which we were admitted was of tolerable size. 
It was dimly lighted by two windows protected by 
iron bars, but was not destitute of decoration. Op- 
posite to the door was a kind of dais, the canopy 
bearing the arms of Scotland, the red lion on a gold 
field, surrounded by a wreath of lilies and thistles, 


270 THE ‘WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

embroidered on velvet of a dark colour. A scroll 
with the motto Dieu et mon droit in gold letters 
wound about the wreath. On another wall I no- 
ticed a beautifully carved cabinet, the principal 
ornament of which was a crucifix ; and an excel- 
lent replica of Fra Angelico’s painting of the An- 
nunciation on a gold background, tastefully framed 
in dark wood. 

I had j ust time to take in these details with a 
hasty glance, when Mary Stuart entered from her 
private apartments, accompanied by two attend- 
ants. She paused a moment at the door, her large 
clear eyes resting on me with an enquiring expres- 
sion 5 I bowed low, but Sir Amias, whom I could 
have struck in the face for his lack of courtesy, in- 
stantly began without ceremony to address her 
thus : 

“Here, Madam, is the body physician whom 
her Majesty the Queen and the Privy Council in 
their great charity have graciously granted to you. 
By my troth, had they asked my advice, you would 
have had a different sort of leech — ” 

“One who would have opened a vein, and 
effectually put an end to all my sufferings, if I un- 
derstand your meaning, most worthy knight,’’ 
interrupted the royal lady. “Well, Sir Amias, if 
you are not over courteous, you are at any rate 
frank, and make no secret of your wishes. I pre- 
fer it to hypocrisy; doubtless there are many more 
of the same mind as yourself, and the treatment I 
have been subjected to by my royal sister for the 
last eighteen years, especially since you have been 
my warder, should warn me to be prepared for the 
worst.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 271 


“It ill becomes you to complain of her Majesty, 
who has always shown the greatest forbearance to- 
wards you. After the Westminster judgment she 
might have made short work with you. It w T ere 
only what you merit, considering your obstinacy in 
adhering to your idolatrous worship. The signs of 
it sicken me, whenever my office corbels me to 
enter these apartments.” Here Sir Amias looked 
wrathfully at the objects of devotion, adding: “To- 
day, at least, you have reason to give thanks instead 
of finding fault, since her Majesty has been pleased 
to send a physician to minister to your needs. ” 

While the knight was speaking, the Queen 
supported by her women, had crossed the room 
and seated herself on a stool close to one of the 
windows. I had a good view of her features, 
and was struck by the sallowness of her com- 
plexion, and the premature greyness of her hair. 
But her exj>ression was sweet and touching in 
the extreme, and one could see what a strikingly 
handsome woman she had been in her youth. 
As she took her seat, she answered in a pleasant 
voice : 

“I am not going to argue with you, Sir Amias, 
about the veneration, I pay to the images of my 
Redeemer and His all-merciful Mother, for I should 
not convince you, nor would you convince me. 
And as for the Westminster judgment, it could not 
have been other than it was, seeing that it was the 
verdict of bitterly prejudiced persons and that the 
accused was not allowed a hearing. I must await 
the sentence that will be pronounced by an omni- 
scient God before all the world. For although I 


272 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

know myself to be guilty of sins and failings in- 
numerable in His sight, for which I must ask 
pardon for the sake of Christ’s passion, I know 
myself to be innocent in respect to the assassination 
of my unfortunate husband. Therefore I must beg 
for the last time, that you will spare me these 
insulting insinuations. For granting me this gen- 
tleman’s medical aid, a favour I never sought, I 
naturally return thanks to my royal Sister of 
England.” 

The last words were spoken doubtfully, and 
the Queen looked inquiringly at me. I stepped 
forward, and knelt upon one knee to kiss her hand. 
As she extended it to me, she said : ‘‘Mr. Windsor, 
if I remember right? Eise up. Are you a brother 
of Lord Windsor? How comes it that you have 
studied medicine ? ’ ’ 

“It is no unusual thing for the younger sons 
of peers to adopt a profession in England,” I 
replied. “And as under existing circumstances, I 
was but little inclined to take a post at Court, or 
under Government, or on the Bench — ” 

“You have not remained true to the ancient 
faith?” the Queen broke in. 

“I have your Majesty, thanks be to God,” I 
answered. 

On hearing that, a grateful smile passed over 
her countenance and her eyes rested on me with a 
kindlier expression than before, despite the male- 
diction which Sir Amias could not refrain from 
muttering. “Oh,” she exclaimed, “I never could 
have dreamt of their sending me a Catholic leech! 
— But there remained the military profession open 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 273 


to you ; you might have borne arms under the 
brave Parma. ” 

“Nature endowed me with a pacific disposition, 
one that finds more pleasure in healing wounds 
than in inflicting them,” I rejoined. “Had I con- 
sulted my inclinations, I should have devoted 
myself to the service of the Muses, and your Ma- 
jesty knows the saying : Inter arma Musae silent .” 

“What, you are a scholar too!” she said. 
“We also loved the poets in our youth. Even 
now, it would give us pleasure to read one of the 
classics with you, or perhaps Dante’s immortal 
poem. — You studied in Italy!” 

“That cannot be,” Paulet interrupted roughly. 
“All you have to talk about with this Windsor is 
your health, and that only once a week, and in my 
presence.” 

1 ‘That last condition cannot be taken literally, ’ ’ 
replied the Queen, as she rose wearily from her 
seat. “Mr. Windsor, will you have the goodness to 
come into the next room with me and my women!” 

Sir Amias began to protest, but Mary Stuart, 
accustomed to his scolding, paid no heed to it. In 
the room into which I was taken, a worktable stood 
by the window, besides an embroidery-frame, and 
further on there was a large crucifix hung upon the 
wall, with a priedieu beneath it, on which some 
prayerbooks and a rosary were lying. The Queen 
spoke to me most cordially, asking under her breath 
whether I was perhaps a physician of the soul! 
She thought that possibly a priest had gained 
admittance under the guise of a leech, and appeared 
disappointed on discovering that this was not the 


274 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

case. 6 6 1 care little about the bodily health, ? ’ she said. 
“What can any doctor do for me? the best gardener 
cannot produce a healthy plant if it is kept in a 
cellar, deprived of sun, air and light. So it is with 
me in the absence of liberty and of all that makes 
life cheerful. In fact everything concurs to make 
me miserable. I assure you, Mr. Windsor, my 
son’s conduct during the last few years has been 
more grievous to me than my protracted captivity ! ’ ’ 
Tears filled her eyes as she spoke, and her breast 
heaved with sobs. 

I tried to console and encourage her, assuring 
her that her son had been misled by bad counsellors. 
I said also that although I could not hold out hopes 
of complete recovery under present conditions, yet 
I trusted that much might be done to alleviate her 
sufferings by the use of baths in which aromatic 
herbs had been steeped, and by taking a little 
physic. Thereupon she exclaimed: “No potions 
for me, if you please, my good sir ! ” I looked at 
her in surprise, and she added, dropping her voice: 
‘ T am afraid that W a] singham and my other enemies 
have some design, in sending me a Catholic as my 
doctor. I should not wonder if they surreptiously 
mixed poison with your drugs, so as to make you 
responsible for my death.” 

I was much struck by her suggesting this, as 
it was the very same thing that Father Weston 
had mentioned as possible. I resolved to prescribe 
nothing for her which I could not prepare myself, 
and if possible, administer with my own hands. 
This I told her, adding that if there was anything 
that I or my friends could do for her Majesty, we 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 275 


would risk life and limb with joy in her service. 
“Do you remember a man named Babington ? “I 
asked in a low voice. “Babington! Anthony Bab- 
ington ! 7? she answered, “I do indeed remember 
him, and the many proofs he gave of attachment to 
me when I was at Sheffield’s Castle. A gallant 
young fellow, always in good spirits. Pray assure 
him of my kindest regards. 7 ? 

I told her I had been obliged to promise on 
oath not to carry any messages, verbal or written, 
on the occasion of my professional visits to her. I 
assured her however, that Babington and I, and 
other of her friends, were taking active measures 
in her behalf. 

Her eyes brightened, and she pressed my hand. 
“You need not think of conveying letters, ’ ’ she said. 
“My good friends in Paris have sent over a young 
man named Gifford, who has devised an ingenious 
plan, with the aid of the brewer who supplies me 
with ale, of forwarding my letters to me. You 
should make his acquaintance. But we must not 
talk of these things any longer, or my amiable 
jailer will grow suspicious. ” 

We returned to the reception room, where we 
found Sir Amias fuming with impatience. When 
I mentioned amongst other means of restoring her 
Majesty’s health, the necessity of exercise in the 
open air in fine weather, he became quite abusive, 
and declared that nothing should induce him to let 
her go beyond the castle walls. She might walk 
for an hour every day in the little garden within 
the precincts, but more than once a month she 
should not ride out. Even that gave a great deal 


276 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

of trouble as he was obliged to have an escort of 
twenty horsemen as a guard. 

We were compelled to content ourselves with 
this concession, and I was about to take my leave, 
when I perceived that Paulet had something else to 
say, something that even he felt reluctance to bring 
out. He had, he said, given his prisoner so much 
pleasure to-day, by introducing her to her popish 
physician, that it might serve to sweeten a some- 
what bitter pill which he had to administer. “The 
fact is,” he blurted out, “her gracious Majesty 
Queen Elizabeth was seriously displeased to hear 
that you, under the garb of Christian charity, 
entice all manner of idlers and vagabonds into the 
castle. Therefore she has given orders that hence- 
forth no alms were to be distributed either by your 
servants or yourself Q. That I beg? you to under- 
stand, once for all.” He turned to me, and we 
took our departure. “So my poor clients also 
must suffer on account of my inability to ingratiate 
myself with Elizabeth! God forgive her this injury 
done to Himself in the person of the poor ! 7 ? 

Such were the words I heard Mary Stuart 
utter, as I followed Sir Amias out of the apart- 
ment. When we got downstairs, he sent me away, 
curtly telling me, I must get a lodging somewhere, 
for I could not be accommodated with a room in 
the castle; besides he had already quite enough 
Papists under his roof. 


b Hosack 1. c. II. 325. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


Windsor acquires an extensive practice, and hears a very 
startling piece of news. 

Finding myself dismissed in so unceremonious 
a fashion by the churlish knight, I passed out of 
the castle gates and repaired to the Mayflower inn, 
where I had left my horse that morning. My 
interview with the captive Queen, her gentleness 
and Christian patience had profoundly moved me. 
“You have been in the presence of a saint, ” I said 
to myself; and urged by the respect and compas- 
sion that filled my heart, I once more made a 
solemn resolution to strain every nerve, if not to 
release her from her present position, at any rate 
to alleviate it in some wise. 

The Mayflower in which I now took up my 
quarters was a comfortable, solidly built house, 
such as one frequently sees in the region between 
Stafford and Derby, with pointed gables, thatched 
roof and curiously carved beams of dark wood set 
into the plastered walls. The swinging signboard 
over the door, a marvel of rustic art, displayed a 
huge golden lily, from the flower of which formerly 
rose the figure of our Lady with the Divine Child ; 
but this abomination, as the friendly but garrulous 
tavern keeper informed me, had been painted out 
in more godly times. 

I experienced no difficulty in coming to terms 
with my host; a good sized room with a gable 
window, commanding a fine view of the surround- 
ing country was assigned me ; the opposite one, I 
( 277 ) 


278 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

was told, being let to a Mr. Gifford, whose family, 
now much reduced in circumstances, had been one 
of the wealthiest in that part of the country. A 
very pleasant young gentleman, the host added, 
but unfortunately a Papist, and just then absent 
in London. 

I called for ink and paper, and seated myself 
at the table by the open window to indite a letter to 
my sweetheart, Mary Bellamy, whom 1 fondly 
termed, in the words of Horace, animae dimidium 
meae , my souks other half. I soon filled four 
pages with the account of my ride through the 
smiling country in the sweet springtide, giving a 
description of the saintly Queen and the shameful 
manner in which she was treated, of my room at 
the Mayflower , and most important of all, of the love 
that longed to find happiness in making her happy. 

My pleasant task was ended, and my epistle 
sealed and subscribed, when the host came to tell 
me dinner was served. After the repast, which I 
wound up w ith a tankard of excellent ale, I seated 
myself in the garden beneath a shady lime tree, 
and lulled by the humming of the bees among the 
blossoming fruit trees, I fell asleep. My drowsi- 
ness did not last long. I was soon aroused by a 
clamour of voices, and starting up, beheld a crowd 
of mendicants, women, children and afflicted per- 
sons, crying and lamenting, scolding and grumbling 
in a manner fit to touch a heart of stone. On pre- 
senting themselves at the castle to receive their 
accustomed alms from Queen Mary, they had been 
told that she w r as weary of their insolence and im- 
portunity, and would give them nothing more, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 279 


much less come clown into the courtyard to them. 
This was too barefaced a lie to be believed, and 
the porter was soon made to acknowledge that a 
messenger had arrived that morning from London, 
bearing orders from the Queen, that the almsgiving 
at Chartley was to be put a stop to for the future. 
Happening to descry me in the garden of the May- 
flower, the repulsed mendicants conjectured that I 
was the bird of ill omen, and raised a deafening 
tumult of angry cries. I think they would have 
thrown stones at me, had not the inn-keeper 
hastened to my rescue, informing the people that 
I was not only a friend of Mary Stuart, but her 
newly appointed body physician. Then the tables 
were turned, and the sick and infirm were no less 
clamourous in their entreaties that I would give 
them the benefit of my professional help and ad- 
vice. I thought I could not do less than comply 
with their request, in virtue of the office I now 
held about her Majesty’s person, so I prescribed a 
few simple remedies for them, in most instances 
adding a few groats to pay the apothecary, remem- 
bering the words of the Gospel: “As long as you 
did it to one of these my least brethren, you did 
it to me.” 

Before long, I had acquired an extensive but 
highly unremunerative practice in the neighbour- 
hood, and was in a fair way of reducing myself to 
beggary. But my royal patient somehow heard of 
it, and from time to time she would slip into my 
hand a good round sum of money, saying it was 
for me and my pcror. Thus I experienced the truth 
of the saying that charity will bring no man to ruin. 


280 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

When the crowd of beggars had dispersed. I 
returned to my seat under the lime tree, and took 
from my pocket a volume of my favourite Yirgil. 
But before I had read many lines, the sound of 
voices coming through the open window of the 
guest room, attracted my attention. It was St. 
Barbe, in hot altercation with an individual un- 
known to me, the godly Ezechiel Bitterstone, as I 
afterwards learnt. St. Barbe was laying before 
him Miss Cecil’s difficulties, expressed somewhat 
differently. I listened to the discussion with no 
little interest. 

St. Barbe asked the preacher, if he really 
thought Calvin’s teaching to be the best; and on 
the other replying in the affirmative, he asked 
whether Calvin’s doctrines were taught before 
Calvin’s time ? 

“Undoubtedly,” was the reply; “they were 
taught by Christ and the Apostles.” 

i ‘Then this doctrine, taught by Christ and the 
Apostles, was lost at the period when Calvin be- 
gan to preach % ” 

“It was contained in Holy Scripture; but the 
right interpretation of the Scriptures was lost.” 

“Had it been lost for long % ” 

“It is impossible to assign anytime, for the 
earliest Fathers of the Church wrested the Scrip- 
tures from their true meaning to uphold grievous 
errors, such as the mass, the veneration of saints 
and other essential matters.” 

“Then,” St. Barbe continued, “I am to believe 
that the whole Church hath erred for several cen- 
turies, and been under the dominion of a lying 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 281 


spirit. How can that be reconciled with Christ’s 
promises, recorded in St. Mathew’s Gospel: “I 
am with you all days; and, The gates of hell shall 
not prevail against her ? ” 

“Are you a Papist in disguise,” the preacher 
retorted, “that you try to ensnare me with these 
crafty questions?” 

St. Barbe replied that he was an honest Pro- 
testant, but finding himself incapable of answering 
the doubts of a friend, he wished to hear them 
refuted by Mr. BittCrstone. 

The preacher declared himself most willing 
to do this. One must come to the study of the 
Bible, he said, without pride and cunning phrases 
which are of the devil. “I am with you all days,” 
did not mean that teachers of religion could never 
fall into errors. 

“That is quite true,” St. Barbe answered. 
“The words do not refer to every individual 
teacher, but to the Church, the divinely commis- 
sioned teacher. It cannot be doubted that the 
Saviour would ensure for that divine truth which 
He makes it incumbent on all men to accept, im- 
munity from corruption until the consummation 
of ages.” 

‘ ‘He has done enough, by providing that the 
truth in all its integrity should always be found in 
the Holy Scriptures.” 

“I cannot see that to be enough. The Lord 
said': Preach the Gospel, teach all nations ; and it 
is to the teachers and preachers that this divine 
assistance is promised.” 


282 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“But I,” said the minister, “can prove from 
the Bible that for centuries the Church has erred, 
and taught abominable idolatry, so your interpre- 
tation of those passages cannot be correct. ” 

“And I,” responded St. Barbe, “consider that 
the Divinity of Jesus Christ, upon which the whole 
fabric of Christianity rests, is conclusive proof that, 
according to His promise and the general tenour 
of His teaching, He has provided for mankind an 
infallible Teacher; hence on no single point of 
doctrine can the' Church be in error. ’ ’ 

“What! not in regard to the abomination of 
the mass?” 

“Hitherto, God knows, I have always thought 
as you do. But just explain this to me : You con- 
tinually quote the Bible in proof of what you say ; 
the Papists do the same, and they bring forward 
the interpretation of learned and holy men, who 
have studied the Word of God with prayer and 
fasting, in a far more conscientious and diligent 
manner than many of our own preachers. I repeat, 
find a way out of this difficulty: Either Christ’s 
promise has been fulfilled, and in that case the 
Church has not erred ; or it has not been fulfilled, 
and if that be so, Christ is not God, a blasphemous 
thought which be it far from us to entertain.” 

By this time the minister’s wrath got the better 
of him ; he abused his antagonist for a vile Papist, 
a priest of Baal perhaps, or even a wily Jesuit. 

He would go to the sheriff, he said, and. get a 
warrant for his arrest, for he deserved the stake as 
much as Servet, an accused wretch, whom Calvin 
caused to be burnt at Geneva. St. Barbe only 
laughed at such threats, and advised Mr. Bitter- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 283 


stone to go first to Sir Amias and find out who he 
was. The minister went on for some time with a 
vehement tirade against Popery, quoting many 
texts and urging the necessity of faith alone in 
matters of belief ; his companion answered not a 
word ; I resumed my book and left off listening. 

I had not read many lines when a young man 
of rather prepossessing appearance entered the 
garden, and coming up to me, asked in a peculiar 
soft voice, whether I was Edward Windsor ? On my 
rejDlying that I was, he informed me that his name 
was Gilbert Gifford, and taking a letter from his 
pocket-book, he handed it to me, not without 
glancing round to see if we were alone. 

“From Anthony Babington!” I exclaimed, as 
I read the superscription. “Hush!” he said, lay- 
ing his finger on his lips. “One cannot be too 
careful not to mention names, in an affair like this. 
Would you object to taking a stroll with me on the 
moors ? One is never so safe as out on the moors, 
where there is neither tree nor bush, tapestry or 
curtain, behind which an eavesdropper may be 
concealed 1 J ? 

I agreed to the proposal, and accompanied 
Gifford for the distance of about a mile from the 
castle, where fields and meadows gave place to a 
barren tract of country, where we were absolutely 
alone. Not a sound broke the stillness except the 
cry of the lapwing, that makes its nest among the 
moorland heather. Hitherto we had conversed 
on indifferent subjects, but now my companion 
began to speak of our plans with regard to the 
Scottish Queen in a manner, which showed that 


284 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Babington had fully initiated him into the secret. 
As Queen Mary had mentioned his name to me as 
that of a confidential agent, sent by her partisans 
in Paris, I was not surprised, only there was that 
about the young man’s manner that gave me the 
impression of great slyness. He then told me at 
great length how he had been commissioned by the 
• Archbishop of Glasgow and the Spanish Ambassa- 
dor in Paris, to organize a means of communicating 
to the prisoner at Chartley the intelligence of Par- 
ma’s meditated invasion, or any other tidings of 
consequence; and how on the strength of their 
recommendation Chateauneuf had amply supplied 
him with means. He proceeded to inform me of 
the plan concocted with the brewer, also of the 
successful result of the experiment made in the pre- 
vious week, in consequence of which Chateauneuf 
had intrusted to him a packet of most important 
letters, which were to be transmitted to her on the 
morrow, with the weekly supply of beer. Amongst 
the letters was one from Babington to Nau, asking 
for the key to a new alphabet in cipher. 

I was astonished at the ingenuity displayed in 
this contrivance, and asked him however he had 
hit upon it. He said he was a native of this part 
of the country, and had lived for some time in 
Burton, where he made the acquaintance of the fat 
brewer, and found out how clever he was. Many 
a time a young roebuck, entrapped in the park of 
Tixall, had been smuggled into Stafford by him in 
one of his beer barrels, and this had suggested the 
employment of a similar means in order to convey 
letters to and from the royal prisoner. Any sus- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 285 

picions I might have felt being thus allayed, I read 
Babington’s note. It told me that by the middle 
of June, Salisbury would have made every prepar- 
ation for flight ; also that other matters which it 
was wiser not to commit to paper, would be told 
me by word of mouth by the bearer of the epistle, 
who was perfectly trustworthy. 

“It is of the greatest importance,” Gifford con- 
tinued, his shifty eyes ever looking to the right and 
left, “that Mary Stuart should be conveyed to a 
place of safety, before either Parma lands, or some 
other event” — he emphasized this word, and 
repeated it slowly — “ some other event takes place, 
which would imperil her life, were she still a 
prisoner in the hands of her enemies.” 

I looked inquiringly at him, and he went on : 
“We shall receive notice of Parma’s landing in 
due time. At present his preparations are not far 
advanced. Of course it would raise a perfect storm 
against Mary Stuart, who would be regarded as 
his accomplice, and her life would not be worth an 
hour’s purchase, if she were in Elizabeth’s power, 
or indeed anywhere on English soil. The other 
event which we must take into consideration is the 
sudden death of Elizabeth.” 

“The sudden death ? ” I answered. “Why do 
you lay such a peculiar accent upon the word? 
You surely do not mean her assassination!” 

“Hush, hush!” interrupted Gifford. “One 
must beware of using such an expression, even in 
confidential conversation. It is quite significant to 
speak of sudden death. Good God! Is that such 
an unheard of, impossible occurrence? Two years 


286 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

ago the Prince of Orange died suddenly. And I do 
not think he was more hated, or more justly hated, 
than Elizabeth.” 

“There is some scheme afloat! You know 
more than you choose to say. Merciful Heavens ! 
Babington will surely not fall in with such a des- 
perate act! Say that he will not! ” I exclaimed. 

“Do be quiet and divest yourself of that bad 
habit of mentioning names,” he continued. “You 
might make matters very awkward for yourself and 
for others too. Your friend and his comrades of 
St. Giles have not the slightest intention of hurting 
a hair of her Majesty’s head, although she richly 
deserves it, and the wording of the Pope’s Bull 
might sound like a justification. Let us however 
just suppose, for the sake of argument, that you or 
I or any one of our party, heard casually of some- 
thing that might cause Elizabeth’s death ; would it 
not be your bounden duty to make inquiries as to 
when such an event was likely to ensue ? For if 
it happened at an inopportune moment, it might 
be fatal to Mary Stuart as well ; while on the 
other hand, if it took place at a seasonable time, 
it might facilitate, not her deliverance only, but 
her elevation to the throne, and thereby promote 
the re-establishment of the Catholic religion in 
England.” 

Then on a sudden a thought struck me : I 
remembered the man in the Paris Garden , who 
was such a first-rate shot. I had seen him of 
late very frequently in Babington’ s company. 
“You mean Savage, John Savage,” I said to 
Gifford. * “And Babington is privy to it! ” 


THE ‘WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 287 

“When will yon stop that unfortunate trick 
of proclaiming everyone’s name*?” he rejoined. 
“Well, let us assume that to be the man’s name, 
and that he has had an object in practising with 
the pistol, until he can hit any mark at thirty 
paces distance ; is it not of the greatest moment 
to us, that the shot should not be fired at an 
unsuitable time! Otherwise it might strike two 
hearts. In other words, we must know what is 
going on, in order to turn events to the advant- 
age of the Scottish Queen, and of our holy reli- 
gion. On that account it is desirable for Anthony 
to keep friends with the marksman, though he does 
not approve his designs.” 

“Keep friends with such a wretch!” I 
answered indignantly. “Babington has lost his 
senses. He ought to inform against him in- 
stantly.” 

“He does not think himself obliged to do 
that, nor do I consider that he is. It is one 
thing to do a deed oneself, another, not to pre- 
vent its being done. I do not see that under the 
circumstances it would be anyone’s duty to give 
information.” 

“I will do so myself!” I cried. 

“Do not be precipitate,” he said. “In the 
first place, what proof have you against Savage! 
None, absolutely none. Nor could you accuse him 
without incriminating your friends and yourself, 
disclosing the plot, and destroying all chance of 
liberating the prisoner, nay, her very life might be 
the price of your indiscretion. The fact is, the shot 
in question would very likely have been fired 


288 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

before now, had not Anthony held the man back, 
until all was in readiness here.” 

I rang my hands in my trouble. “Mean while,” 
I said, “in all probability Walsingham is on the 
track of this man ; perhaps he has already caught 
him and put him on the rack ! Who knows but that 
at this very hour he may, under stress of torture, 
have revealed all our names as accomplices and 
accessories to his bloody purpose ! If so, nothing 
remains for us but the gallows and the hangman’s 
knife ; and some of the best names in England will 
be branded for ever!” 

“Yes, my dear fellow,” Gifford coolly rejoin- 
ed, “you had best consider well before you embark 
in this sort of business. If the plan for delivering 
the Queen fails, nothing will save you from a trai- 
tor’s death.” 

“I have considered all that, and am prepared 
to lay down my life in the enterprise, for that will 
not be regarded as a blot upon my escutcheon, 
whatever the verdict of the royal law courts may 
be. But to be condemned as an accomplice in a 
murder ! Every idea of such a deed was scrupul- 
ously excluded from our project, and I should feel 
justified in retiring from it, if Babington combines, 
independently of us, with so dangerous an individ- 
ual. I shall reflect upon it, and decide what it is 
my duty to do.” 

“Do so by all means, ” Gifford answered. “But 
remember your withdrawal will not put a stop to 
the enterprise, and your name will always be con- 
nected with it. Besides, you will lay yourself open 
to a charge of cowardice.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 289 


I repeated that I would think the matter over, 
and allow no consideration to prevent me from 
doing what I thought right. Then I asked him 
when he was returning to London! 

“To-morrow,” he replied, “I shall receive the 
Queen’s correspondence from the honest brewer, 
and carry it to London at once.” 

“Very well,” I answered, “perhaps I shall 
ask you to take some letters for me at the same 
time.” And here our conversation closed. 

That evening in my solitary chamber I pon- 
dered long over the startling intelligence I had 
heard, without, however, arriving at any decision 
as to the course of conduct I should pursue. The 
thoughts that perjdexed me in my waking hours 
haunted my pillow at night ; at length I concluded 
to remain passive, and, for the present at least, 
content myself with writing to Babington a letter of 
warning, couched in general terms. 

Nothing worthy of note marked the next few 
days. Gifford received from the brewer, as he 
expected, a thick packet of letters, addressed, he 
told me, to the French ambassador, the Arch- 
bishop of Glasgow, the Duke of Guise, and other 
of Queen Mary’s partisans. There was also a 
short letter to Babington ; with these Gifford 
started at once on his way to London, and I 
gave my letter to my sweetheart Mary, besides a 
few lines to Babington, into his charge. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Windsor describes his life at Chartley, and tells the reason 
of his hasty return to London. 

For several weeks I led a quiet country life at 
Chartley. My humble patients visited me daily, 
and in ever increasing numbers, so that the host of 
the Mayflower was fain to place at my disposal a 
small room on the ground floor to be used as a con- 
sulting room. 

Frequently I sought out the sick myself, in 
their scattered dwellings on the banks of the Done 
and the Trent, or the borders of the widespreading 
moorland. By this means I learnt how faithfully 
the rustic population clung to the old religion. 
Christian almsgiving seemed quite to have died out 
under the influence of the so called “pure Gospel 77 , 
the new creed wherein faith was everything and 
works were nothing. The numerous monasteries, 
the great dispensers of charity, at whose gates the 
impotent and indigent never sought help in vain, 
had been suppressed, and their revenues bestowed 
upon highborn favourites of the Queen, who squand- 
ered on their pleasures the “heritage of the 
poor 77 , as church property was considered to be 
in former days. Thus the alms distributed by 
the imprisoned Queen, were doubly welcome, and 
served to enhance the sympathy and compassion 
which misfortune invariably evokes from the 
hearts of the poor. Everywhere I heard her 
spoken of with affection and respect, while never 
a good word was said of Elizabeth and her coun- 
( 290 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 291 


sellors. I felt certain that we might rely upon the 
peasantry of those parts for aid in our enterprise, 
as well as for secrecy. 

I began in my turn to construct a scheme 
which could be carried out independently of Bab- 
ington and his comrades. In the course of my 
visits to the sick, in the forest that stretches to 
the north from Burton nearly to Derby, I had 
come upon the cottage of a gamekeeper whose son 
had been attacked and severely injured by a wild 
boar. The savage animal had torn with its tusks 
the flesh of the boy’s thigh penetrating to the bone, 
before the father could hasten to his rescue. The 
wound was so much inflamed, and the boy in so 
high a fever, when the father conducted me to his 
bedside, that I almost despaired of saving his life. 
For some time I made my way daily to the sequest- 
ered spot where the cottage stood, a distance of 
some four miles along a solitary path shaded by 
high fir trees and spreading oaks. I quite enjoyed 
the walk, and I was rewarded for my pains, for, 
with the blessing of God, and the use of suitable 
remedies, the boy’s vigorous constitution triumph- 
ed. When the people discovered that I was a Cath- 
olic, their attachment was unbounded. One 
day I surprised them saying their beads by 
the sufferer’s bedside; they left off and 
appeared embarrassed, but I drew my rosary 
from my pocket and said it with them. When I 
went away, the gamekeeper walked a good part of 
the way with me. “Mr. Windsor,” he said, “God 
reward you for all you have done for my poor lad. 
A man like me can do nothing more than pray 
for you.” 


292 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I thanked him, and said his prayers were the 
best recompense, adding: “But we live in times 
when a Catholic may easily stand in need of help 
and protection from his fellow Christians — 77 

He interrupted me before I could get further. 
“Oh,” he said, “if you or one of your 
friends, or one of our priests should happen to 
get into trouble with the people there in London — 
you understand me — do you come to me. No pur- 
suivant will hunt you out in my cottage, and you 
could be accommodated with a pleasant little 
chamber upstairs. There is plenty of game to be 
had in the wood, and I would share my last crust 
with you ! ’ 7 

“Remember , 77 I said, “that to harbour a priest 
or any other outlaw, may cost you dearer than a 
morsel of bread . 77 

“If I had to give my life for it, I would do so 
most willingly for the faith or for my persecuted 
brethren . 7 7 

The man spoke with feeling; I was deeply 
touched and shook him by the hand, saying someday 
I might perhaj^s remind him of his generous offer. 
And as I imrsued my solitary way homeward, I 
reflected whether it might not be more advisable to 
keep the Queen, after her release from prison, con- 
cealed in that lonely spot for some months, till the 
first excitement should have subsided, than to ride 
post haste accross two counties to the coast, 
and put her on board ship. How easily some un- 
foreseen occurrence, incident to this long ride — a 
ride Avhich might besides too sorely tax the Queen 7 s 
strength — such as an accident to one of the horses, 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 293 


uncertainty as to the right road, official warning 
preceding us, might frustrate the whole scheme! 
Whereas were she to remain in concealment awhile, 
no danger would accrue to her from Parma’s land- 
ing, or that other event, should Babington fail to 
avert it. And if the invasion either did not take 
place, or came to nothing, after the lapse of several 
months the flight would be much easier of execu- 
tion. In a single night’s ride she could reach Lan- 
cashire, where many Catholic families of position 
would readily receive her, and she could proceed 
at night by short stages to the Mersey, and there 
take ship. 

I thought over this plan a good deal and de- 
termined to propose it to Babington when next I 
saw him. In the interim I gave the gamekeeper 
money to lay in a stock of provisions, for my mind 
was made up, that should an opportunity present 
itself for carrying off the Queen, I would act on my 
own responsibility, and not allow the occasion to 
slip. 

On my return to the Mayflower , I found my 
host awaiting me at the door, with the intelligence 
that Mr. Gifford had already been there twice, and 
was coming again. He handed me a letter, which 
Gifford had left for me. As the handwriting was 
unfamiliar to me, I opened it at once. How de- 
lighted I was when my eye fell on the signature : 
In Jesus and Mary your own true love , Mary Bellamy. 
I could not conceal my pleasure, and hastened up- 
stairs to my chamber, to devour the contents of the 
epistle. 


294 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I need not have been in so great a hurry, for 
this first love letter contained much that was bitter 
as well as sweet. The true and loving heart of the 
writer spoke in every line, but the general im- 
pression was a sad one. She told me that since my 
last visit to Woxindon, her sister Anne had become 
more contrary and self-willed, and would not listen 
to a word of rebuke either from her or their grand- 
mother. On the same day that we had been 
engaged, Babington had asked to be allowed to 
pay his addresses to Anne, and Mrs. Bellamy had 
not only refused him, but had forbidden him the 
house. This had made her sister extremely angry; 
and in defiance of her grandmother’s express prohi- 
bition she had several times had stealthy meet- 
ings with Babington either in the wood, or the 
ruined castle. On hearing of this from the old 
serving-man John, her uncle Remy, who had 
always been so indulgent towards Anne, his fav- 
ourite niece, had spoken very seriously to her. 
This she took amiss, saying everybody in the 
house took part against her. Windsor, she knew 
with certainty, was involved in no less hazardous 
an enterprise than Babington, yet he was her sis- 
ter’s accepted lover, while she was not allowed 
to hold the most innocent intercourse with Bab- 
ington. She would, however, she declared, find 
some way of attaining her end. She was as good 
as her word. A few days later, Anne had come 
into her sister’s room at night, embraced her 
fondly, begged her forgiveness, and entreated her 
to say a good word for her to the grandmother;' 
then before Mary could answer, she had run off 
and shut herself in her own little room. Mary 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 295 


hoped that her sister had come to a better mind, 
and all would go well. But the next morning 
Anne did not appear at the breakfast table, and 
on search being made for her, her room was 
empty, her bed had not been slept in, her chest 
was open, her clothes and valuables were gone. 
It appeared that she had caused these to be 
secretly removed to the old castle on the previous 
day, and in the night, as they supposed, she had 
absconded with Babington. At any rate Babington 
would know of her whereabouts, so uncle Remy 
had immediately taken horse to London, to make 
inquiries of him. He had however been unable to 
meet with him; and therefore Mary wrote, at the 
desire of her grandmother and her uncles, to beg 
me, if possible, to go to them for a few days, to advise 
them, and help them to find the fugitive. The letter 
closed with kind messages and assurances of undying 
affection ; and a postscript added that satisfactory 
tidings had been received of Frith, whom Lord 
Burghley’s daughter had taken under her special 
care and protection. 

Of course I resolved to start on my way to 
London the very next morning, after my pro- 
fessional visit to the Queen. I read and re-read 
the letter, picturing to myself the grief of my sweet- 
heart, the anxiety of the aged gentlewoman, at this 
fatal step on the part of a goodhearted but terribly 
wilful girl. At the same time I felt excessively 
angry with Babington for having taken advantage 
of the folly of a mere child. I determined to take 
him severely to task, my position as Anne’s future 
brother-in-law giving me the right to do this. The 


296 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WONINDON. 


more I pondered over what had occurred, the 
less favourable was my estimate of Babington’s 
character. Hitherto I had only seen the good side ; 
his frankness, his pleasant, facetious disposition, 
his devotion to his friends and to the cause of Cath- 
olicism ; his daring, his courage, his skill in all 
knightly exercises. But this event had brought 
out in glaring colours the levity I had already 
remarked in him, and I felt that it made him un- 
trustworthy as a friend, and dangerous as the leader 
of such an enterprise as ours. 

I was still pacing up and down my room, 
thinkingover the contents of the letter I held in my 
hand, when Gifford entered. 

“What do these grave looks mean, Mr. Wind- 
sor?” he inquired. “No bad news, I hope, from 
your lady love.” 

I was not going to let this man into our family 
secrets, so I told him all was well with my betroth- 
ed, but in the present day there was much to make 
a good Catholic sad. 

“True enough, ”he rejoined. “Butlam happy 
to say that I bring you good news.” He opened 
the door to make sure that no one was listening, 
then dropping his voice, he continued : “If we speak 
low and mention no names, I can tell you now. He 
then informed me that all was going on well with 
our undertaking ; they had heard from Lancashire 
that the way w^ould be made smooth in another 
fortnight at the latest ; Anthony had had a most 
encouraging letter from the prisoner, and only a few 
more [details remained to be settled. To discuss 
these, the friends were to meet next Friday eve- 
ning at the Blue Boar in St. Giles-in-the- fields. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOAVER OF AVOXINDON. 297 


“This is Monday, ” I answered. To-morrow 
I must visit my patient. I can get to Woxindon 
by Thursday evening, and on Friday I will be at 
the Blue Boar. How about Savage?” 

“If only you would not blurt out names !” 
Gifford whispered. “All is well; you shall hear 
particulars on Friday. ” 

Thereupon he bade me good night and took his 
departure. I busied myself in preparing to start 
on my journey to London directly after my visit to 
the castle on the morrow. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

We pass a night full of terrors, yet not barren in consolation. 

I will not dwell upon my meeting with my 
sweetheart, when I reached Woxindon after a long 
day’s ride. The two months of separation had 
only served to enhance her charms in my eyes, and 
the tears on her cheeks, tears half of joy, half of 
sorrow, might well be compared to dewdrops on 
the petals of an opening rose. But the old lady 
had aged perceptibly in the short interval ; I noticed 
how trembling were the hands she extended to me 
in welcome. By her two sons I was also kindly 
received ; as soon as I had taken some refreshment, 
I started for London with uncle Remy, because it 
was contrary to the good old-fashioned notions of 
propriety for two persons who were betrothed to 
pass the night under the same roof. 

On the way uncle Remy said that Anne’s 
elopement caused them less concern since they had 
heard that Babington had married her at once. 
The nuptial bond had been tied by a seminary 
priest from Douay, named Ballard, the usual pre- 
liminaries being dispensed with in virtue of the 
extraordinary powers granted by the Holy See to 
missioners. Nevertheless he feared that Anne’s 
contumacy and disobedience augured ill for the 
happiness of her married life. Yet he was prepared 
to forgive her and recognize Babington as his 
nephew, both in his own name and on behalf of the 
other members of his family, provided they would 
both acknowledge they had done wrong, and ask 
( 298 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 299 


forgiveness. This reconciliation he hoped might 
be brought about by means of my mediation. I 
willingly promised to do my utmost to effect it. 

When we emerged from the leafy shelter of the 
wood, we perceived that a storm was coming up in 
the west. The sun had disappeared behind a bank 
of heavy clouds, which were spreading rapidly 
over the sky, and we put spurs to our steeds in 
order to reach our destination before the outbreak 
of the tempest. As we passed through St. Giles, 
the first gusts of wind, heralds of the coming storm, 
swept over the plain, enveloping us in a cloud of 
dust. Low ragged clouds drifted across the sky, 
like a troop of skirmishers, pelting us with shot in 
the form of large heavy rain drops. After them 
came the vanguard of the army, raging and roaring, 
the main body following in seried ranks upon their 
heels. We were galloping through Newgate when 
the war of the elements broke loose, and the artil- 
lery of the heavens, which we had heard muttering 
in the distance, was discharged over our heads. 
Flashes of red lightning rent the sky, accompanied 
by sharp peals of thunder, while rain and hail- 
stones pattered down on roof and pavement. We 
were fain to draw our cloaks over our heads and 
press onward with all speed to Tichbourne’s dwel- 
ling house in the strand. We arrived there wet 
through, but met with a warm welcome, and were 
soon provided with dry clothes and a glass of hot 
punch, while the friendly housekeeper took our 
dripping *cloaks to be hung up by the kitchen fire. 

We sat in the twilight and told one another 
of what had occurred since we last met. The 


300 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

storm that was raging without, caused it to become 
dark long before the ordinary time, for it was mid- 
summer. The rain which came down like a water- 
spout, dashed against the windows that looked 
towards the river, while the panes rattled with 
every fresh peal of thunder. 

Tichbourne spoke of his lawsuit ; he said that 
his counsel had informed him, in so many words, 
that he could not hope for a favourable verdict, 
unless he attended the reformed service. This led 
to a fresh discussion of the vexed question, whether 
it was allowable, when considerable property 
was at stake, to assist occasionally as a mere spec- 
tator at the heretical worship. I maintained that 
it was; Tichbourne said no, and he was right, 
because to be present in the Protestant church was 
considered as a proof of apostasy. Our debate 
was put a stop to by a loud knock at the door 
which opened on to the garden, and my friend, the 
boatman hurried in, looking, to borrow a homely 
expression, like a drowned rat. 

“Mr. Windsor is here! ” he exclaimed. “Thank 
God, I am not too late. Save yourselves, gentlemen, 
to-night all Papists are to be put to the sword !” 

“Why, Bill, what strange story is this ? ” 

“I will tell you presently, when you are in 
safety. Should I come out for a stupid joke, on 
a night like this ? Do not stop to consider, for 
God’s sake! Take your money and your arms, 
throw on your cloaks, and in with you into the 
boat ! As true as I stand here, your life «hangs on 
a thread, and we have not a moment to lose ! ” 

We looked at one another in bewilderment. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 301 

But the man was so evidently in earnest, that we 
thought it best to follow him. Tichbourne put in 
his pocket all the money he had in the house ; we 
buckled on our swords and wrapped our mantles 
round us. Meanwhile Bill informed us that it was 
reported as a certain fact that a decree had been 
passed by the Queen’s Council for the massacre 
of all Papists in their houses on that night. More 
than once already such rumours had been set 
afloat, which in those troubled times easily found 
credence, and put all Catholics in mortal fear. 1 ) 
Many persons then abandoned their homes and 
spent the night in the fields ; others hired boats on 
the Thames, and floated up and down the river. 
We thought possible there might be a murderous 
uprising of the people, in consequence of a lying 
rumour about the coming invasion being spread 
about. It struck me that perhaps our conspiracy 
was discovered, and the issue of a decree for our 
arrest had given rise to the report. In times such 
as ours, no man felt himself safe. 

So out we went in rain and storm under Bill’s 
guidance, and soon found ourselves on the river’s 
bank. The boat, tossed about by the waves, was 
half full of water, and we had to ladle it out with 
our hats before intrusting our persons to the 
stream. At last we put off, and so strong were 
wind and current, that it was all the sturdy arm 
of our boatman could do to direct the course of 
the boat aright. 

“I will take you to my home,” he said, “you 
will be safe there. Then I must go to St. Paul’s 


J ) Cf. Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers. Series ii. 
p. 409. 


302 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

stairs , to fetch another friend of yours. He is to 
be there by 10 o’clock. Listen, half past nine is 
striking, we must make haste. Look out for the 
bridge ahead of us!” 

In a few minutes we reached St. Catharine’s 
docks, and made the boat fast to one of the posts 
beneath the boatsman’s dwelling. Bill gave the 
signal ; the rope ladder was let down, and we all 
three climbed up into the narrow room, dimly 
lighted by a small oil lamp. There we found 
several Catholics who lived in the neighbourhood, 
and had sought refuge in the humble abode. 
Women and children cried and lamented; the men 
paced up and down ; some guarded the door, 
others watched from the window what went on in 
the alley below. One said one thing, one another. 

“On the stroke of midnight,” said one, “the 
great bell of St. Paul’s will give the signal for 
the massacre.” 

“No, a shot will be fired from the Tower, when 
it is to begin,” another asserted. 

“Oh, it has already commenced in St. Duns- 
tan’s and Whitef riars, ” a third declared. “No 
mercy is shown even to women and children.” 

“I have been informed,” another said, “that 
no shooting is to go on, by order of the Privy 
Council, lest, if the gunpowder is used freely, it 
will run short w T hen the Spaniards land.” 

“They have landed already, near Dover, 50,000 
strong; to-morrow they will be before London,” 
was the confidential assertion of the same individ- 
ual, who stated that the massacre had already 
begun. “Those who are fortunate enough to live 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 303 


through this night, will see the old Catholic days 
back in England. The Spaniards once here, we 
shall see no more of Anne Boleyn’s daughter, who 
has done all the mischief, for they will set Mary 
Stuart on the throne. Bolt the doors, friends, and 
be patient, to-morrow may have good things in 
store for us ! ’ ’ 

One did not know what to make of these 
contradictory reports. My friends and I were 
shown into a small upper room, where we could 
be quiet. Standing at the window, we gazed out 
on the broad river. The rain had abated, the 
clouds had broken, and the moon cast an uncertain 
light on the waves as they hurried by. By these 
fitful gleams we could discern a quantity of craft of 
every size, crowded with peoj^le, passing to and fro. 

‘ ‘F ugitive brethren ! ’ ’ said Tichbourne. ‘ ‘Mer- 
ciful Heavens, what days we live in! It could 
hardly have been worse for us in Borne, under 
Nero or Diocletian .’ 7 

“Our enemies are evidently determined to 
drive us to desperation,” I remarked. 

“Here comes our worthy boatman with a new 
freight,” exclaimed Bellamy, pointing to a light 
skiff that was being made fast to the posts support- 
ing the house. At that moment a ray of moonlight 
broke through the clouds, enabling us to recognize 
the persons seated in the boat. ‘ ‘By George ! it 
is my niece and Babington,” he ejaculated. 

I laid my hand on his : “Here is an opportun- 
ity, my dear friend, to practice a Christian virtue, 
and show that it is not with your lips alone that 
you say daily : Forgive us our debts, as we forgive 
our debtors.” 


304 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

He returned the pressure saying: “You do 
well, Windsor, to remind me of that. But go you 
to meet them, and just say a word to them before 
I see them.” 

Accordingly I went down into the lower room, 
which I entered just as Babington and his young 
wife ascended the rope ladder. In the dim light 
they did not recognize me at once, so I left them a 
few minutes to recover themselves, before taking 
Babington aside, and speaking to him. “You 
here, Windsor!” was his astonished exclamation. 
“Yes, and Tichbourne too, and — do not excite 
yourself — Bellamy ! ’ ? 

“What, Remy! Good Heavens! In that case 
my wife and I had better take refuge somewhere 
else. She is so excitable, and is so irritable at the 
least mention of Woxindon, that I often regret 
having persuaded her to leave it.” 

‘ ‘That makes it all the more necessary to avail 
yourself of the occasion that now presents itself 
for a reconciliation. I give you my word for it. 
Bellamy is prepared to forgive all, if you and 
Anne will acknowledge yourselves in the wrong, 
as freely as I forgive you.” 

“As you!” he rejoined. “Pray what have 
you to forgive? Was it not through your tale- 
telling that the old lady turned me out of the 
house ? What were we to do, but to take the law 
into our own hands ? ” 

“My good fellow, I assure you upon my hon- 
our, that never a word to your disadvantage did I 
utter to Mistress Bellamy. It was a servant who 
reported to the old grandmother your secret 


THE WONDEEFUL FLOWEK OF WOXINDON. 305 


meetings in the ruined castle, against which I had 
already warned you. But let that pass now. At 
any rate your mode of procedure has caused much 
distress to all the members of the family at Woxin- 
don. And the fact that at this moment we have, 
as it is reported, a sword hanging over our heads, 
is reason enough to ask pardon of all against whom 
we have offended, and seek mutual reconciliation.” 

For all his levity and vanity, Babington had 
too good a nature to allow him to harden his heart 
against this friendly overture. He grasped my hand 
affectionately: “God bless you, Edward,” he said. 
“I see that I have wronged you, and given pain to 
others, and I will do all I can to make reparation.” 

He then went up to Anne, who was sitting 
apart, and talked some time to her. At first she 
seemed inclined to stand out, but presently she 
gave way, and he brought her to me. I shook 
hands with her, and seeing that she was in tears, 
I bade her keep up her spirits, for all would go 
well. Then she began to sob convulsively, declar- 
ing that her people never would forgive her the 
grief she had occasioned them. My only answer 
was to lay her hand on my arm and lead her up- 
stairs, into Uncle Bellamy’s presence. 

“Here is Anne, ” I said as we entered, “heartily 
sorry for the rash step she took, which her youth 
and inexperience may well excuse.” 

The young lady tried to throw herself at her 
uncle’s feet, but he caught her in his arms and 
clasped her to his breast, scolding and carressing 
her in one breath, while she sobbed violently, 
accusing herself in the bitterest manner. I could 


306 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

not look on unmoved, so I left the room, and only 
returned half an hour later, giving her time to 
recover her composure before bringing Babington 
on the scene. When at last I took him up, we 
found uncle and niece sitting together at the win- 
dow, through which the moonlight now streamed 
into the apartment, for the storm was over, and 
the clouds were dispersed. I acted as mediator, 
but I saw it cost Bellamy a struggle to lay his hand 
in that of the thoughtless youth, who had violated 
the rights of hospitality, and brought additional 
grief on an already suffering household. But he 
overcame himself manfully, and spoke kindly to 
Babington, calling him “nephew.” 

I was heartily glad of this, and felt I could 
now die in peace, if we were really to lay down our 
lives that night. For as nothing is more wretched 
than hatred and strife, so nothing is more com- 
forting and encouraging than the reconciliation 
and reunion of those who have been at variance. 

In the meantime midnight had come and we 
awaited in anxious expectation the dreaded signal 
of attack. The most contradictory reports had, 
during the last half hour reached us ; some persons 
asserting positively that the gangs of hired assas- 
sins were assembled in readiness in St. Paul’s 
churchyard, at Charing Cross, on Tower Hill, at 
London Stone, and that the Catholics were all to 
be driven onto London Bridge, thence to be pre- 
cipitated headlong into the river. Others on the 
contrary, declared, it was all an idle rumour, only 
set afloat, for the purpose of driving Papists to 
desperation. Some of Walsingliam’s emissaries 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 307 

had been heard to make the announcement in one 
or other of the taverns and wine shops of the city, 
which they frequented; hence it might safely be 
concluded that there was no truth in it, otherwise 
the Chief Secretary’s agents would not have let it 
get about beforehand. This reason had great 
weight with me ; yet it was with no little trepida- 
tion that I listened for the stroke of midnight. At 
length it rang out from a neighbouring church 
tower; a moment more, and with beating hearts 
we heard it slowly toll out from St. Paul’s. But 
the last stroke died away, and neither the great 
bell, nor the Tower guns gave forth a sound. We 
breathed more freely. 4 ‘It was a cock-and-bull 
story, after all,” said I. “Do not make too sure 
of that,” remarked one of my companions. “The 
signal may yet be given.” 

Ten more minutes passed ; then we determined 
to send Bill, and his boy, Johnny, out to get tid- 
ings. The bolts were cautiously drawn back, the 
door was opened, when we caught the sound of 
cries in an adjoining alley. The door was instantly 
closed again, and all exclaimed “They are coming! ” 

“’Tis but a few revellers getting home from 
‘The Jolly Sailor,’ half seas over,” said Bill. “Let 
me go out.” 

After a little more discussion we ventured 
upon opening the door again, and Bill and the boy 
issued forth to learn the real state of affairs. 

On their return they said there were a great 
many people in the streets and squares, all talking 
of a massacre that was to be, and of a hostile 
invasion ; but nowhere were any armed men to be 


308 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

seen, neither on Tower Hill, nor at Charing Cross, 
nor at St. Paul’s. 

“Only an idle scare again this time, thank 
God,” said Babington, who with the others, had 
come down to the lower room before midnight. 

“But how long are we to endure this intoler- 
able tyranny on the part of the Queen’s ministers'? 
We all know that quite recently Lord Burghley 
was heard to declare, he would bring matters to 
such a pass, that in a short time Catholics should 
be reduced to such a state of destitution that they 
should be unable to assist one another, and would 
be thankful to feed swine if thereby they could 
find husks to assuage their hunger!” Q 

It would have been pardonable, if on such an 
occasion as this, a few words had been let drop, 
which the myrmidons of the law would have reck- 
oned as treasonable. Yet such was the timidity 
and apprehension continually felt at that time by 
Catholics, that, although we English are wont to 
pride ourselves on our love of liberty, not one of 
those present ventured to utter a syllable against 
Burghley and his associates, in answer to Babing- 
ton’ s indignant outburst. 

At last one and another slipped away to their 
own homes, after thanking the worthy boatman 
for the shelter he had afforded them, and leaving 
a substantial proof of their gratitude behind them. 
When the excitement was over, I enquired after 
his sick daughter ; he said she was not as well as 
she had been, he had taken her to a neighbour’s 
house for the night, for the sake of greater quiet. 


q Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers. Series ii. p. 109* 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 309 


I promised to visit her as soon as possible, and 
Bill rowed us back to our dwelling, where we were 
glad to take a few hours’ rest, before a new day 
brought us fresh cares and fresh anxieties. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Important resolutions are taken, and plans formed. 

The sun already stood high in the heavens 
when we met for breakfast. Then for the first 
time I noticed that the roses on Anne’s cheeks had 
faded sadly during the past weeks. Xot only did 
she look ill, but there was a strange restlessness 
about her that I did not at all like ; she seemed 
unable to sit still, her fingers were always at 
work on something, and in talking she passed 
from subject to subject incessantly. Yet she 
would not allow that there was anything the 
matter with her, only she had* slept very badly, 
she said. All would be well if only she could 
be assured through uncle Remy of her grand- 
mother’s and sister’s forgiveness. Consequently 
I told both Bellamy and Babington that the very best 
thing for her would be to pass a few weeks in the 
seclusion of Woxindon; in fact her health re- 
quired it. The former said directly that he would 
take his niece back with him, and the latter, after 
some persuasion on our part, gave his consent. We 
agreed, however, that Uncle Remy should go down 
first and apprise his mother of our intention, 
and that Anne should follow under our escort on 
the morrow. Woxindon would only be a halting 
place for me on my way back to Chartley. 

Bellamy set off betimes on his homeward ride, 
and Anne, at my suggestion, retired to rest awhile ? 
to make amends ior the preceding night, I availed 
( 310 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 311 


myself of the opportunity thus afforded me, to 
question Babington about Savage and his murder- 
ous project. 

He told me he had made the man’s acquaint- 
ance through Pooley, who displayed the greatest 
sympathy for the Queen of Scots, and had disclosed 
to Babington many of Walsingham’s secrets. I 
here made the remark that he ought to be careful 
how he trusted Pooley, for a man who is not true 
to his master will not be true to his friend. Bab- 
ington answered that he had taken the precaution 
to make inquiries through Nan, of Mary Stuart 
herself, to whom Pooley had referred him, as to 
whether the man was trustworthy, and had had the 
most satisfactory assurances in reply. For himself 
he was more and more convinced that Walsingham 
was desirous that Mary should be set at liberty, 
and that was why he had appointed me as her 
physician. He believed too that it was with Wals- 
ingham’s consent that Pooley told him what he did, 
albeit he was obliged to appear to know nothing 
whatsoever of our plans. 

“I was introduced to Savage some two months 
back,” he continued, “in the Paris Garden, as being 
a wonderful good shot. I pique myself on being 
no mean proficient in that line, but on compet- 
ing with him, I found that my skill was nothing in 
comparison with his. Pooley left us together, and 
we were joined presently by Gifford, whom the 
French ambassador has entrusted with the task of 
conveying all our correspondence to the Scottish 
Queen. He told me that Savage was the very man 
for us ; he was a zealous adherent of the Catholic 


312 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

cause, and would gladly join our conspiracy. I 
therefore invited the sinister-looking man to my 
rooms, saying I wanted to show him some new pis- 
tols of Spanish workmanship and to speak a word 
with him in confidence. He came, and over a 
bottle of choice Alicante his tongue was loosed. 
What was the use, he said, of complaining about 
the sad condition of Catholics in England"? The 
time had come to act ; the Pope himself had 
declared that Anne Boleyn’s daughter was not our 
rightful sovereign. I reminded him of the dis- 
astrous termination of the uprising in the north . 
he answered that the blow had been struck in the 
wrong place. ‘A single bullet from the mouth of 
this pistol in the heart of the right individual 
would rescue England from the shameful tyranny 
of this bastard, and our holy faith from being 
trampled on by the heretics. ’ 

I could no longer fail to understand his mean- 
ing, and upon my honour, I did my best to dissuade 
him from attempting such a crime. All was in 
vain. He is firmly convinced that he is chosen by 
Heaven to be an instrument of its vengeance, and 
the liberator of the Church of God; and would 
gladly die the cruellest death if he could only 
first succeed in inflicting on Elizabeth the fate she 
deserves. ” 

“He told me,” Babington continued, “that he 
was a soldier of fortune who had served for several 
years in the Netherlands. Having lost family and 
home and property in the religious wars, nothing 
remained to him but his sword ; and he thought he 
could not employ it better than by fighting against 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 313 

the heretics under Parma. Embittered by brood- 
ing over his misfortunes, and exasperated by cer- 
tain Scottish comrades in the camp, who reproached 
the English Catholics for their cowardice in sub- 
mitting to be tyrannized over by a woman, he had 
become possessed with* the idea that to take the life 
of one who used her power to such ill purpose, and 
who had, in fact no right claim to the sceptre she 
wielded, would be a good and laudable action, 
which Heaven would approve. He related to me 
that, on one occasion, after long hesitation, he dis- 
tinctly heard a voice bidding him do the deed he 
contemplated, and that many remarkable coin- 
cidences had confirmed him in his resolution. 
Finding all persuasions powerless to deter him 
from the deed, what was I to do?” 

“Inform against him instantly, ” Tichbourne 
answered. 

“I could not bring a man to the gallows, for 
what he told me in confidence, ” Babington rejoin- 
ed. “I did threaten him with it, but I saw from 
the strange, wild look in his eye that if I persisted, 
he would not scruple to take a speedy means of 
preventing betrayal. So I changed my tactics, and 
suggested another argument ; had it not occurred 
to him, I said, that the assassination of Elizabeth, 
so long as Mary Stuart was in the power of her 
enemies, would provoke her immediate death at 
the hands of her warder, by way of reprisals ; and 
thus he would destroy a life he meant to spare, and 
defeat the hopes of all of us Catholics? This stag- 
gered him for a time ; then he said : ‘God can 
protect her; I must keep my oath.’ Nothing 


314 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

remained for me but to reveal to him, after swearing 
him to secrecy, the existence of our association for 
the liberation of the Queen of Scots, the arrange- 
ments for which were so far advanced, that we 
might reasonably hope to execute our project before 
many weeks had elapsed. Finally I induced him 
to give me his word of honour that he would do 
nothing until Mary Stuart had been removed to a 
place of safety. That is all that I have had to do 
with Savage.’ ’ 

Tichbourne and I could not but approve of 
Babington’s conduct in regard to this affair. We 
resolved that Savage’s project should not be mixed 
up in any way with ours, nor should he be admit- 
ted into our association. Not a word should be 
said about his proposal at our meeting that evening ; 
above all, there was not to be a hint of it in any 
communication to the captive Queen. I then talked 
about my sojourn at Chartley, and my royal pa- 
tient, describing her gentleness and patience in 
such eloquent language, that my hearers were 
quite touched. Before separating, we promised 
to be at the Blue Boor in St. Giles in good time that 
evening. 

In the afternoon I paid my promised visit to 
the good boatman’s sick daughter. The poor child 
was in her lonely garret ; the first glance was 
enough to tell me that the disease had entered upon 
a new stage, and that she could not live many 
weeks more. But she was in good spirits, and said 
that if only her cough and the fever would let her 
rest at night, she should soon be better. Her ap- 
petite was not bad, and people told her she was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 315 


getting quite a nice colour. Alas ! she knew not 
that it was not the glow of health upon her cheek, 
but the hectic flush of consumption ! As I sat a 
while by her side, looking out upon the boats ply- 
ing to and fro upon the river, the sight of the 
still, turbid waters, hurrying by, and the presence 
of one on whose features Death had already set 
its mark, made on me a most melancholy im- 
pression. I could not help reflecting how near 
my own end might be ; nearer perhaps, than that 
of the sick girl whose days I knew were number- 
ed. My patient perceived my altered mood, and 
asked, was I not going to repeat some of those con- 
soling prayers with which I had frequently com- 
forted her on my previous visits'? 

Eight willingly I complied with her request ; and 
while I was reciting some acts of contrition, of 
charity, of hope, the father entered. He knelt 
down by the door, and folded his hands ; when I 
had ended, I noticed that as he rose from his knees 
he wiped away a tear with the sleeve of his coat. 
“That is the way people used to pray when I was 
a child, sir, ’ ? he said as he came forward/’ in the 
days when Chancellor More and Bishop Fisher laid 
their heads on the block. Under the new order of 
things we have no such prayers, and ministers 
now-a-days do not visit the poor when they are in 
trouble, as the old clergy did, whom people now 
call Priests of Baal.” 

I bade my patient farewell, leaving with her 
a bottle of Muscatel wine, which I had brought, 
as being the best medicine she could have ; the 
father accompanied me down the narrow stair- 


316 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

case. On reaching the room below, he anxiously 
inquired how I thought his daughter was! I did 
not conceal from him, that humanly speaking, 
there was no hope of her recovery; with careful 
nursing, however, she might linger some time 
yet. Then I slipt a sovereign into his hand, in 
acknowledgement of his services on the foregoing 
night ; but he would not hear of taking it, say- 
ing that my great kindness to his child gave me 
a claim to anything he could do. He then asked 
me, if we still thought of rescuing Mr. Bellamy 
from prison. If so, there was a capital oppor- 
tunity just then, for there was a smart cutter 
lying at anchor near Gravesend, which was to 
sail for Dunkirk in a week’s time, The captain, 
a friend of his, was always willing, for a small 
remuneration, to carry a persecuted Papist, for 
whom he had an excellent place of concealment 
on board. He was acquainted too, with one of 
the warders of the Clink, who for a few soft 
words and a few pieces of gold, would undertake 
to put a rope and a file handy for the prisoner. 
Knowing as I did what joy the liberation of 
Uncle Robert would give to my friends at Wox- 
indon, I gladly accepted Bell’s proposal, and pro- 
vided him with a sum of money to make all 
necessary arrangements. On the morrow, or at 
any rate, the day after next, I would send him a 
definite answer. So I left St. Catharine’s docks 
with a light heart and full of hope, little thinking 
under what circumstances I should again seek the 
shelter of the worthy boatman’s roof. 

I reached the Blue Boar at St. Giles’ betimes 
that same .afternoon. The evening breeze was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 317 


rustling in the tops of the old and leafy oaks 
before the tavern, while the ground below was 
strewn with branches and twigs torn and broken 
by the violence of the storm on the preceding 
evening. 

On the threshold stood old Clayton, his portly 
form filling up the doorway. I thought he greeted 
me in a less friendly and jovial a manner than 
usual, and he begged to have a word with me 
before I went upstairs. So he conducted me 
into a little private room behind the guest room, 
and after looking through a spy-hole to see that 
no one was near enough to hear what was said, 
be began, with some hesitation, to say how much 
he respected Tichbourne and myself, and he 
begged we would not take offence, if he ventured 
to say a word of warning about Babington, who, 
though doubtless he meant no harm, brought to 
the house comrades of whom he, the host, could 
not but regard with suspicion. Would I just 
look through the spy-hole ; there sat three black- 
browed boon companions. The one who was just 
setting down the tankard, was a certain Savage ; 
the names of the other two were Travers and 
Charnock ; they were all old soldiers who had 
served together under Parma. The man at the 
other table gave himself out for a recruiting ser- 
geant, and called himself Fortescue ; the one with 
a feather in his hat and silver braid on his gray 
cloak, but it was whispered about that he was 
something very different, and a Spanish spy to 
boot. His two companions were Pooley, an agent 
of Walsingham’s, a cunning rogue; and Gifford, 


318 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


one of the most dissolute fellows imaginable, a reg- 
ular gallowsbird, but who could cast up his eyes 
and quote texts from the Bible as well as any of 
the sour-visaged preachers who came over from 
Geneva. 

u These are the people / 7 old Clayton conclud- 
ed, “whom Mr. Babington takes for his confiden- 
tial companions, whose reckoning he pays, and by 
whom, I am sorely afraid, he has got entangled in 
some discreditable business. Pooley sticks to him 
like a pet dog, and, I have little doubt, carries 
everything to his master, Walsingham. Well, I 
must leave it to you, sir, whether after what I have 
told you, you will go upstairs or no. In your place 
I would break off at once with a friend who has 
such suspicious comrades, for in these dangerous 
times many a man has got into sad trouble through 
his friend 7 s friends, ay, and has in this way made 
unpleasant acquaintance with Topcliffe, her Majes- 
ty 7 s chief executioner . 7 7 

I could not help seeing that Clayton meant 
what he said, and said it with the best of inten- 
tions. I shook hands with him, telling him I* 
should always feel grateful to him for his kindness 
in thus warning me, but I did not think he need be 
uneasy about Babington, as he knew better than to 
do anything unworthy of a Christian or of an Eng- 
lish gentleman. Certainly his associates were very 
undesirable companions, and I would take the first 
opportunity of speaking seriously to him about 
them. I did not, however, think there was suf- 
ficient reason for me to absent myself from the 
meeting of my comrades that evening, so he must 
not take it amiss if I joined them all the same. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 319 


The old man looked disappointed, as he 
answered: “Very well, you must do as you 
please. Only do me the justice to acknowledge 
that, if you get into trouble, as I fear you cannot 
fail to do, it has not been for lack of warning on 
my part.” Then he bowed low, and opened the 
door for me. 

Upstairs I found all my friends assembled, 
and there was an interchange of salutations and 
merry chatter, such as one cannot blame young 
people for indulging in, even in times of public 
calamity. We sat down to table, and thoroughly 
enjoyed our evening meal ; not till the dishes had 
been removed and the wine placed before us, did 
Babin gton begin to speak of the project we all had 
at heart. He had been by no means inactive since 
we saw him last ; he had purchased or hired a con- 
siderable number of riding-horses, which he had 
placed in charge of trustworthy persons in Stafford- 
shire and Derbyshire, and had obtained promises 
of assistance from a good many of the gentry resi- 
dent in the neighbourhood of his home. Of his 
own retainers at Dethick he could reckon upon a 
hundred men at least ; this he thought would suf- 
fice for the liberation of the Queen. Of money and 
arms there was a plentiful supply. Then taking a 
map of the counties of Stafford and Derby, he 
showed us how he had distributed his men and 
horses within a radius of 30 to 50 miles around 
Chartley, and we all expressed our commendation 
of the arrangements he had made. Thus, when- 
ever I should send a messenger to Lichfield, 
where he fixed his headquarters, on the following 
night the horsemen could all meet in Chartley W ood . 


320 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

After Babington had told us what he had done, 
Salisbury and Barnewell related their adventures in 
Lancashire. They could not say enough about the 
great number of Catholics in that county; and the 
detestation which the proceedings of the govern- 
ment had aroused. The little town of Prescot was 
entirely Catholic, and were Mary Stuart once in 
Lancashire, there would be little doubt of her res- 
cue. In fact they thought very little would be 
needed to cause an insurrection of the people. For 
the present they had secured safe quarters as far as 
Formby, where Barnewell had engaged a trusty 
skipper, who from St. James’ Day until the Feast 
of the Ascension, would be in readiness any night, 
if wind and tide allowed, to set sail for the French 
coast. 

Then my turn came to speak, and I described 
minutely the plan of the castle and its situation. 
If a coup-de-main was to be attempted, I said it 
would be necessary first of all to overpower Sir 
Amias Paulet, either by force or fraud, otherwise 
he would certainly not hesitate to lay hands on 
his prisoner, before we could reach her apart- 
ments. But if once we had the crabbed old 
knight in our custody, all the carefully closed 
bars and bolts, the keys of which were always in 
his possession, carried at his belt, would serve to 
keep the other warders of the castle at bay, until 
such time as the men-at-arms could come up from 
the adjoining wood. What I proposed then was 
this : On one of the days on which I paid my 
customary visits to the Queen, I would take with 
me one of my comrades, Donne for instance, who 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 321 


had a strong and ready arm, under the guise of an 
assistant surgeon. The porter would admit us 
without any difficulty, for I should say that my 
patient required cupping. We would arrange so as 
to go in just before the brewer’s dray from Burton, 
which we could see coming in the distance, should 
drive up, when the great gates would be thrown 
open. At that moment two others, say Salisbury 
and Barnewell, must gallop up, and just as the 
cart had passed through the gateway, cut the 
traces, so that the gates could not be closed again. 
In the meantime my companion and I would have 
reached the apartment where Sir Amias would be 
awaiting my arrival at the appointed hour. He 
would be sure to make objections to my taking a 
surgeon in with me. But before he could look 
around, we would have overpowered him, bound 
and gagged him, and taken his bunch of keys from 
his side. Our friends in the courtyard would, it is 
true, be left to grapple with the men on guard, but 
there were not many, and they would be taken by 
surprise. Besides a pistol shot would summon 
Babington and his followers from the wood, where 
they lay in ambush ; the guard would be out- 
numbered, and it would be easy to carry off the 
Queen to the secluded cottage of a forrester, on 
whom I could perfectly rely, wffiere she could re- 
main provisionally. 

My friends were all delighted with my plan. 
Only Babington protested against the part I had 
assigned to him, saying that to him as leader of 
the enterprise the post of danger by right be- 
longed, and he must either accompany me to Sir 


322 THE -WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Annas’ presence, or be one of the party of attack 
at the gateway, where there would be a risk of 
his life. After a good deal of discussion, it was 
settled that he and Salisbury should undertake to 
arrest the progress of the dray. We arranged 
also that the honest brewer should be induced on 
the strength of a gold noble, not to drive off 
from the Mayflower until he saw Donne and myself 
going into the castle, so as to leave time for us 
to make our way to the room where the old knight 
was, and possess ourselves of his person. 

Thus the whole plot was finally determined 
upon in every detail. One point I urged very 
strongly that it should be carried out in the course 
of the next week, or at any rate, in the one follow- 
ing, since delay in the execution of a project which 
so many persons knew of must needs be dangerous. 
But I was overruled by Babington, who insisted on 
writing first to the Queen, and expounding the 
plan of rescue for her approval ; he told us, his 
confessor, Father John Ballard, an excellent and 
zealous man, had enjoined upon him to do so. 
None of us thought this advisable ; Babington 
however was not to be deterred from his purpose ; 
the letter, he said, should be in cipher, and worded 
so cautiously that no harm could possibly come of 
it. Nor was there any fear that the plot would get 
about, for besides our six selves, not a soul knew 
anything about the time and manner of its execu- 
tion, except Gilbert Gifford, who had been most 
highly spoken of by Morgan and other friends in 
Paris. And thus ended our last symposium at St. 
Giles ! 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 323 


While we were conversing, the flagon had fre- 
quently been passed round, and doubtless the good 
Spanish wine had something to do with our high 
spirits, for we parted in a merrier mood than had 
been the case ever since we pledged ourselves to set 
the royal captive free. How differently we should 
have felt, could we have foreseen what would hap- 
pen at St. Giles eight weeks later! But a merciful 
God has seen fit to hide the future from the eyes of 
mortals. 

Nescia mens hominum fati sortisque futurae ! 



CHAPTER XX V. 


My Wife tells how two fugitives arrived at Woxindon, and a 
solemn festival was held beneath the branches of the 
wonderful flower. 

My good husband says it is time that I 
should resume the part of narrator, since I have 
already been silent for a longer period than is 
consistent with the love of talking with which he 
credits my sex. I will therefore proceed with my 
story, and narrate the events which occurred on 
the eve of St. Peter and St. Paul, after the departure 
from Woxindon of my Uncle Remy, with Windsor, 
my affianced husband. 

As soon as they had ridden off, I went up to 
the top of the watch-tower, whence I could follow 
them in thought, when they had passed out of sight, 
accompanying them with earnest wishes for their 
success in dealing with my poor sister Anne. As 
I think I said once before, I loved to linger in that 
solitary place, to think of my friends on earth, and 
raise my heart to Heaven. But I was alarmed to 
see the threatening aspect of the sky over the wood 
in the direction of Putney, and I ran back to the 
house to warn the servants, and direct them to 
close the shutters on the side of the house where the 
rain was coming up, before the outburst of the 
storm that I saw approaching. The violence with 
which it broke over the city has been described by 
my husband. When the first gusts began to sway 
to and fro the tops of the beeches, to howl in the 
chimneys, and to make the rusty vanes on the 
( 324 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 325 


housetop clatter and scream, as they twirled about 
in the eddying blast, I went into my grandmother’s 
room, for I used to be very nervous of a storm, and 
did not like to be alone. 

The pious old lady had already lighted the 
blest candles, and laid her prayerbook open at the 
place of the prayers to be said in the time of a 
tempest, imploring the protection of Almighty God 
and the good Angels for house and field, against 
the fury of the elements and the powers of evil 
spirits. And when the first peals of thunder filled 
the air, and the flashes of lightning began to follow 
one another in quick succession, she pushed the 
book towards me, and made me a sign to recite the 
words of supplication and hope. 

Just when the storm was at its height, and a 
perfect deluge of rain and hailstones was dashing 
against the closed shutters, we heard a knocking at 
the house door. Wondering who ever could be ask- 
ing hospitality in such terrible weather, I hastened 
down to the door with old John, for he would not 
believe me when I said there was somebody there. 
The visitor proved to be none other than good 
Father Weston, who had been standing there for 
some time, unable to make us hear through the 
roaring of the wind and rumbling of the thunder. 
His patience, however, was unruffled; he said it 
did not matter in the least, for it was impossible to 
be more drenched than he was when he first came 
to the door. I took him upstairs immediately and 
gave him a suit of my uncle’s; clad in which he 
soon made his appearance in my grandmother’s 
presence, and gave us all his blessing. 


326 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Meanwhile old John had bestirred himself to 
bring something to eat, for he knew right well that 
the priests, hunted down mercilessly as they were 
by the pursuivants, often went for whole days 
without food. Whilst taking some refreshment, of 
which he appeared very glad, Father Weston told 
us of some of the hairbreadth escapes from falling 
into the hands of his pursuers, which he had had 
since he left us in the end of April. Some of them 
were nothing short of miraculous. He said once he 
had stood the whole night long in the Thames, with 
the water up to his neck, screened from sight by a 
drooping willow-tree, while Topcliffe and his troop, 
with bloodhounds searched the great park at Hen- 
- ley, where for some time he had been hidden in a 
summerhouse. “So you see,” he said, turning to 
me with a smile, “you need not compassionate me 
for being wet through with the rain, in an ordinary 
manner; I have got accustomed to such trifling 
disagreeables.” 

As we sat talking, the knocker was heard 
again, and this time with loud and impatient 
strokes. We started to our feet, doubting not that 
the pursuivants were again on the track of the 
fugitive priest. Thrusting into his pockets, bread, 
meat and a bottle of wine, we hurried him away to 
the hiding place beneath the back staircase, of 
which mention has already been made. I then 
sent one of the maids to put out of sight the wet 
clothes he had taken off, as they might give evidence 
that he was here, and finally I descended the stairs, 
at no very quick pace, accompanied by Uncle Barthy 
and old John, to see who was battering the door 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 327 

with the heavy iron knocker, as though with the 
design' of breaking it in. 

But when I opened the little wicket to inquire, 
what a joyful surprise awaited me! For who should 
answer me but my little brother Frith, telling me 
he should have beaten in the door long ago, if he 
had been strong enough, for it was not too pleasant 
to be kept standing outside his own father’s house 
with a gentle young lady in such weather as that. 

The bolts were speedily drawn back, the heavy 
chains unhooked, and the door was thrown open 
wide. I then saw a young lady of distinguished 
appearance and modest, pleasing demeanour stand- 
ing beside Frith. Her dress, which was of costly 
material, was dripping with the rain to which she 
had been exposed. Before I could address a word 
to her, Master Frith, all wet as he was, flung his 
arms round my neck, and poured out a string of 
questions of which not the least important regarded 
the welfare of his grey pony. “Fie, fie,” I said, 
chiding him gently, “you will put me in as sorry 
a plight as yourself, you dear, bad boy,” and at 
last he let me go, so that I could turn to his com- 
panion. 

The young lady stood by, smiling at the warm, 
but somewhat inopportune demonstrations of affec- 
tion showered on me. Her countenance was pale, 
but pleasing, and the expression of her large dark 
eyes was very grave. “Miss Bellamy,” she said, 
“may the unhappy daughter of one of the enemies 
of your faith venture to crave your hospitality?” 

“Miss Cecil!” I exclaimed, taking both her 
hands and leading her into the house, “welcome, 


328 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

welcome to Woxindon! I have heard how good 
yon have been to my brother Frith at Court. But 
for Heaven’s sake, what brings you here in this 
weather 1 ’ ’ 

“I have fled from the Queen’s wrath,” Lord 
Burghley’s daughter responded, as I conducted her 
upstairs to my own chamber, where she could take 
off her wet things. She was rather taller and 
stouter than I was, but yet my dresses fitted her 
very fairly, for at Woxindon we kept to the old 
English costume, and had not adopted the new 
Franco-Spanish fashions of tight bodices and waists 
pinched in, which were in vogue at Court. In half 
an hour’s time I took her downstairs to the room 
where my grandmother was sitting, listening to 
Frith’s story. Good Father Weston, who had been 
fetched out of the hiding place, occupied an arm- 
chair on the opposite side of the hearth. 

When Lord Burghley’s daughter entered, they 
both came forward to greet her with great cordi- 
ality, grandmother giving her a motherly embrace, 
and refusing to listen to her apologies and depreca- 
tory speeches, saying there would be plenty of 
time for all that when she had had rest and refresh- 
ment. When she was introduced to Father Weston, 
I noticed that our visitor looked at him with some 
embarrassment, if not timidity, for like many pro- 
testants, she had a dread of Catholic priests, and 
especially of Jesuits. But she quickly recovered 
herself, and we gathered amicably around the 
supper-table. 

Our repast ended, Miss Cecil, not without 
incessant interruption on Frith’s part, told us the 
story of how she had long doubted the truth of the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 329 


new doctrines, but had been unable to come to any 
decision on matters of faith, because there was so 
much in the teaching of the Catholic Church that 
appeared to her strange and incomprehensible. 
While she was in this state of perpdexity, she had 
learnt a great deal from her little friend Frith, who, 
she really believed, had been sent to Court by God 
in answer to her prayers for enlightenment. Often- 
times she had overheard him disputing with the 
other pages on religious questions, and had been 
struck by the force of his answers, which fully 
refused the objections brought by Calvin and his 
followers against the most prominent dogmas of 
Catholicism. 

Here Frith broke in. “As for that,” he said, 
“you cannot think lvow stupid the pages were. 
Just fancy, grandmother, what rubbish one of them 
talked to me. He said a reformed preacher one 
day came to a Catholic priest, and said : Here is a 
poisoned Host: If you really believe what you 
assert, that the formula you utter has the power to 
change the wafer into the Body of Christ, you will 
not hesitate to consecrate and consume it. Then 
we shall see whether you are right or wrong. For 
if the transubstantiation you talk of actually takes 
place, it will do you no harm ; but if, as I maintain, 
it remains unchanged — well, you must take the con- 
sequences. The priest would not do what the 
minister proposed, and so they said, as he would 
not agree to this test, it was as plain as day that 
he did not believe in transubstantiation. ” 

J ) It is hardly credible, but quite true, that this absurd 
argument was put forward in one of the German Protestant 
tracts distributed to the wounded Catholic soldiers during 
the war of 1870 . 


330 THE WONDERFUL FLOWEE OF WOXINDOtf. 

“The boy only repeated what the learned 
Dean of St. Paul’s said from the pnlpit of the 
Chapel Royal on the preceding Sunday,” interposed 
Miss Cecil. 

“-Well, what answer did you make to this 
cunningly devised argument?” asked Father Wes- 
ton, who was listening attentively to the conversa- 
tion. 

“The answer was easy enough” replied Frith. 
“I said our Lord gave His priests power to change 
bread, but not poison, into His Body.” 

“Bravo! my fine fellow, you shall have the 
best picture I can find for that answer,” rejoined 
the priest. “What did the others say to that ?” 

“Oh, nothing worth listening to. They talked 
loud, and said all sorts of blasphemous things, and 
they cuffed me, and boxed my ears, and I came off 
badly for they were twenty to my one. But I took 
the odds out of big Essex, who was the first to 
strike me, for I knocked out one of his teeth. This 
occasioned such an uproar that the Queen herself 
rushed out of her apartments, and slapped our 
faces lustily with her own royal hand. The others 
all cried out that I, the Papist, was alone to blame, 
and the Queen ordered the master of the pages to 
put me on bread and water for a day, and admin- 
ister castigation with the birchrod. It would have 
fared ill with me but for Miss Cecil’s kindness, she 
interceded for me and sent me a famous slice of 
cake that same evening.” 

Miss Cecil then went on to say that after this 
occurrence she frequently talked to Frith about 
her religious difficulties, and that he almost invari- 
ably gave her a satisfactory answer. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 331 


“Grandmother, I only repeated wliat you or 
my sister had taught me at catechism, ” the boy 
interposed. 

In this manner Lord Burghley’s daughter grad- 
ually became more and more convinced that the 
truth pure and undefiled was only to be found in the 
Catholic Church; and she resolved, with God’s 
grace, to return to the true fold. Yet perhaps she 
would have lacked courage to acquaint her royal 
mistress and her father with the step she contem- 
plated taking, had not circumstances obliged her 
to come to a decision. The Queen had long sus- 
pected that she thought of becoming a Catholic, 
and had threatened her with not the withdrawal of 
her royal favour alone, but with lifelong imprison- 
ment in the Tower. Only two years before, the 
Earl of Arundel, Philip Howard, had been immured 
in the Beauchamp Tower, with no hope of release 
unless he consented to abjure the Catholic faith. 2 ) 
“The day before yesterday,” she said, “one of the 
pages overheard me talking about purgatory with 
Frith.” 

“It was that spiteful Essex, who could not 
forgive me for breaking his tooth,” said Frith. 

“Shortly after we were both summoned to the 
Queen’s presence. She was in a very bad tender, 
as is often the case, now that she is getting old ; 
besides the new French sempstress whom Catharine 
of Medici sent at her request, had not made a gown 
to her liking. She asked us in no very pleasant 
manner, whether we did not know that every one at 

J ) Cf. Life of Father Weston, in Troubles of our Cath- 
olic Forefathers. Series II. p. 91. 


332 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

her Court must hold the same religious belief as 
herself ! She was the Supreme Head of the Church 
in England, and she required us to reject the Popish 
superstition about purgatory, of which not a word 
was to be found in the Bible. I did not know what 
to answer, but my little friend was by no means 
abashed. With more candour than prudence, he 
boldly replied, that he should be very sorry not to 
believe in a place of purgatory, as there was but 
one Heaven and one hell, and Holy Scripture 
declared that nothing unclean could enter Heaven. 
According to the new doctrine, almost every one 
must go to hell, for not many people were so free 
from sin and guilt at their death, that they could 
go straight to Heaven. Then the Queen said one 
drop of the Saviour’s blood was enough to wash 
away theguilt of sin. ‘Yes,’ the boy replied, ‘in this 
life. But when sin is forgiven, the penalty is not 
done away with. King David suffered punishment 
for his sin, although it had been pardoned.’ Eliza- 
beth grew furious at being contradicted. ‘What, ’ she 
almost screamed, ‘do you say I should not go 
straight to Heaven!’ To my horror, Frith gravely 
shook his head and answered : ‘Your Majesty 
must know best about that. But I should wish 
for you to make a good confession before death.’ 
‘And without that I should go to purgatory!’ con- 
tinued the Queen. ‘I fear not,’ the boy replied. 

Then Elizabeth was so exasperated that she 
would have struck the child, had not some of the 
lords interposed, and said doubtless it was a slip 
of the tongue, and he meant to say ‘I hope not.’ 
They had some difficulty in pacifying her, and 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 333 


Frith was delivered over to the jailer to receive a 
sound caning. I tried to slip away unnoticed, but 
the Queen sent word to me that on the next day, 
when the Court was to remove to Windsor, I must 
either give her an unequivocal assurance of my 
adhesion to the Eeformed religion, or be consigned 
to the Tower. Her Secretary Davidson should in- 
form my father imme’diately of what had occurred. 

I felt that the time for action had come. There 
was nothing for me but to seek safety in flight, and 
Frith too, must not be left at the Queen’s mercy. 
So during the night I collected all my jewels to- 
gether, and cut off all the pearls and precious 
stones which were, after the extravagant fashion of 
the day, sewm upon the stomacher of my Court 
dresses. They would, I thought, furnish me with 
the means of escaping to the Continent, where I 
could live in seclusion and in peace. I also wrote 
to my father telling him what I was doing for con- 
science’s sake, and bidding him farewell. I said 
much the same in a few lines addressed to her 
Majesty. 

The next morning in the bustle and confusion 
of the preparations for removal, we two culprits 
were not thought of. This just coincided with my 
plans. No sooner had the Queen left the Palace, 
than I went to the jailer who knew me well by 
sight, and saying that the Page Bellamy had 
orders to accompany me, obtained Frith’s release. 
Poor boy! he forgot his sore back in the joy of 
being again free, and on his way home, when he 
only thought severer punishments were in store for 
him.” 


334 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Then Frith in his turn, related how they 
walked through the park together, how they were 
ferried over the river at Putney, dined at the 
Golden Ball , and finally asked their way across the 
fields to Woxindon. They had not long entered 
St. John’s Wood before the tempest began, and 
such was the violence of wind and rain, thunder 
and lightning, that they almost despaired of reach- 
ing the house. 

We congratulated them heartily on their escape 
from the fury of the elements. But presently it 
occured to grandmother, and to Father Weston 
likewise, that a far worse storm than that which 
was still raging around our walls, would soon burst 
over the two fugitives, and that its most formidable 
thunderbolts would be directed against Woxindon. 
Father Weston inquired of Miss Cecil when she 
thought the report of her flight would reach the 
ears of the Queen and of her father. She replied 
that the Queen would most likely hear of it at 
Windsor next evening, and her father perhaps on 
the day after. 

“If that be so,” continued Father Weston, “in 
all probability, before two days are past, Lord 
Burghley, or his representative, will be* down on 
us with a swarm of pursuivants. Before that 
time therefore, we must contrive that you, Miss 
Cecil, and my young friend here, and myself, should 
be in some place of safety, as far distant as possible. 
We will rest to-night and to-morrow, and when 
evening comes again, we must start anew on our 
wanderings.” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 335 


Miss Cecil began to apologize for the trouble 
her coming had caused us, but grandmother, cutting 
her short, proposed that the young lady and the 
child should be concealed in the house, or in the 
ruined Castle, without going further afield. But 
the Jesuit negatived this decisively, saying that as 
it was a question of discovering Lord Burghley’s 
daughter, the house would be more thoroughly and 
systematically searched than it ever had been before. 
We could not deny the justice of what he said. 

Then Miss Cecil turned to him and said: 
“Reverend Father, I cannot doubt that it is the 
hand of an all- merciful God which has led me to 
W oxindon while you are here. 1 do not know when 
I may have another opportunity of speaking to a 
Catholic priest, or what may befall me, in these 
troublous times. I beg you therefore, in your 
charity to regard me as your daughter, and if you 
see fit, to receive me into the Catholic Church. ” 

We were deeply touched and greatly consoled 
by this request. Father Weston declared himself 
only too happy to render her any assistance, and 
asked her if there was any point of Catholic doc- 
trine upon which she still had doubts. On her 
answering, not one, he told her that she had better 
prepare herself at once for confession ; he would 
then receive her into the Church, and the next 
morning at an early hour she could hear mass and 
receive Holy Communion. To this she agreed, but 
I could see that she felt great apprehension at the 
prospect of making her confession, as is always the 
case with adults who go to confession for the first 
time, and have never experienced the solace this 


336 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Sacrament of Penance brings to the souls of those 
who approach it. 

When Frith heard that Miss Cecil was to make 
her First Communion on the morrow, he pleaded 
earnestly that the like happiness might be granted 
to him also. Although grandmother would have 
preferred a longer time of preparation for him, yet 
at Uncle Barthy’s and my request she allowed us to 
refer the decision to Father Weston. To our great 
delight he assented readily to our petition, as he 
considered the boy’s courageous defence of his faith 
proved him to be sufficiently prepared. 

Then Father Weston gave us a beautiful instruc- 
tion on the Sacrament of Penance, dwelling on the 
fact that it was instituted by the Saviour on the 
day of His glorious Ascension, as the most inesti- 
mable and richest means of grace that he could 
bestow upon His people. “For, when during that 
first Eastertide He came and stood in the midst of 
His Apostles, the doors being shut, and showed 
them the wounds in His hands and in His side, the 
price and pledge of the forgiveness of sins, twice 
He greeted them with the words: “Peace be to 
you”. And He said: “As the Father hath sent 
me, so send I you.” And when He had said this, 
He breathed on them ; and He said to them : “Re- 
ceive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall 
forgive, they are forgiven them ; and whose sins ye 
shall retain, they are retained.” (St. John XX. 21, 
22, 23.) With such unction did the good Father 
expound these words that Miss Cecil’s tears flowed 
freely at the thought of the goodness of the Saviour 
in bequeathing to His priests this divine power of 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 337 


forgiveness. Fr . W eston then helped us to examine 
our conscience, and awaken contrition and resolu- 
tion of amendment, after which he heard us in con- 
fession one after the other. 

When this was over, he addressed all together 
once more, taking Holy Communion for his subject ; 
and then, as it was already late, we sej>arated for 
the night. 

Soon after daybreak, I arranged the altar in 
the attic chamber, where the wonderful plant, 
whose blossoms had given place to five scarlet 
berries, hung down from the rafters, and decorated 
it with beauteous flowers. Then I fetched Miss 
Cecil, to whom I had lent a white veil for the occa- 
sion. We were soon joined by Frith, who had 
scarcely slept for excitement, and who was to "serve 
the mass. Presently in the stillness of the early 
morning, the Holy* Sacrifice was offered, and our 
Blessed Lord, the source of all grace, hidden under 
the sacramental veil, vouchsafed to come and dwell 
in the hearts of those who were prepared to receive 
him as their guest. This sacred Presence brought 
to us in the fulness of His mercy and loving kind- 
ness, consolation for past sorrows, strength for 
coming trials, and the confident hope of an eternal 
reward. 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

A sorrowful parting, and a venturesome flight. 

After some time spent in recollection and silent 
prayer, we assembled in the hall for breakfast. I 
wanted to take Miss Cecil into the garden, and 
show her Woxindon, but Father Weston put a 
veto upon this proposal, saying it was not 
without design, Providence had arranged that 
the two fugitives should come to us unperceived, 
under cover of the storm, and we must not unnec- 
essarily expose them to observation. Grandmother 
said the same; accordingly we agreed to remain 
within doors. This was no small privation for 
Frith, for the cherries were ripe on the tree by the 
wall, and his grey pony was in the stable close by ; 
but he acquiesced without a murmur in the wishes 
of his elders. * 

We then began seriously to deliberate upon 
the best means of placing our two fugitives beyond 
the reach of danger. Father Weston declared that 
nowhere in England would they be secure perma- 
nently, for it was obvious that the Queen and Lord 
Burghley would move heaven and earth to get 
Miss Cecil again into their power. It would there- 
fore be advisable for them to cross the seas as soon 
as possible. He offered to furnish the boy with 
letters which would ensure his reception in one of 
the Jesuit colleges in France, or in Switzerland, 
where the celebrated Canisius had just opened a 
school in Freiburg. Miss Cecil might find a home 
in some Convent in Brussels or elsewhere, or if she 
( 338 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXJNDON. 339 


preferred, he would use his influence to procure 
for her the part of maid of honour at some Catholic 
Court. Until an opportunity for crossing the 
channel was found, he proposed to take them to 
Henley, where Lady Sturton was always ready to 
show hospitality to persecuted Catholics. 

While we were discussing our plans, Uncle 
Eemy suddenly came in, bringing the welcome 
news that Anne was desirous of returning to her 
parents’ house. We regarded it as a truly provi- 
dential circumstance, that on the very day of 
Frith’s and Miss Cecil’s First Communion, this 
consolation should be afforded us ; and we scolded 
my uncle for not having brought her with him, as 
he knew she would be received with open arms. 
So he had told Anne, Uncle Remy replied; but 
the poor child was so downhearted about her fault, 
and really so far from well, that he could not per- 
suade her to accbmpany him. It was agreed forth- 
with that in the afternoon I should ride to London 
with Uncle Barty, to assure my repentent sister of 
full forgiveness, and bring her to Woxindon. 
Grandmother promised to go as far as the cross 
roads to meet her, like the father of the Prodigal, 
who did not wait for his son at the house door, but 
ran to meet him when he was yet afar off. 

Soon after noon, accordingly, uncle and I 
started for the town, leading Frith’s pony by a 
bridle rein, for Anne to ride back. Uncle Remy 
told us we should probably find her at Windsor’s 
rooms in the Strand, and there in fact she was. I 
was shocked at her appearance, she looked so pale 
and haggard. As soon as she saw uncle and me, 


340 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

she began to sob and accuse herself in a manner 
that would have melted a heart of stone, lamenting 
bitterly her rashness in contracting a marriage 
upon which her grandmother would not bestow a 
parental blessing. 

We tried to console her with our sympathy, 
which is oftentimes the best, the only consolation 
that can be given. Uncle Barty was kindness it- 
self, soothing and petting her like a child ; finally 
we prevailed upon her to dress herself, and ride 
back with us to Woxindon. On passing through 
St. Giles we halted at the Blue Boar , for Anne 
knew that her husband was there with his friends ; 
in fact they were just coming out of the hostelry 
when we drew bridle under the oaks. 

My betrothed was the first to descry us, and 
he hastened up to greet me. Then he called Bab- 
ington ; it was impossible not to observe the reluc- 
tance with which the latter came towards us, on 
perceiving that I was there. But I kissed my hand 
to him, and when he began in rather a shamefaced 
manner to stammer some words of apology, I 
invited him to come with us to Woxindon. He 
declined, alleging more important engagements, 
but said he hoped on the morrow, or the day after, 
to make his excuses in person to Mistress Bellamy, 
if I would say a kind word for him in the interval. 
I was not sorry, for I preferred that the meeting 
with Anne should be got over first, especially as 
Miss Cecil was there. So Anne took leave of her 
husband, and we rode on, accompanied by my dear 
Windsor, who gave as a reason for joining our 
party that he had a communication of moment to 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 341 


make to Uncle Remy. I need not say that I made 
no effort to dissuade him from coming. 

The long summer day was drawing to a close 
when we reached the beech at the crossroads. 
There, sure enough, sat our dear old grandmother 
by the wayside, Uncle Remy standing beside her. 
I will not describe the scene that followed; the 
pardon which Anne besought was willingly grant- 
ed ; and as the stars came out one by one in the 
deepening twilight, it seemed as if the angels in 
heaven, who rejoice over the return of the repen- 
tent sinner, once more sang their song: Peace on 
earth to men of good will ! 

As we proceeded slowly homewards, Windsor 
informed Uncle Remy that his object in coming 
that evening, was to tell him that an excellent op- 
portunity had unexpectedly presented itself to get 
poor Uncle Robert out of the Clink. He explained 
Bill Bell’s proposal to us, and we clapped our 
hands with delight, exclaiming: “This is indeed a 
special interposition of Providence!” Then we in 
our turn, told him about Lord Burghley’s daughter 
and Frith, and how Father Weston thought the 
sooner they could cross seas the better. If Uncle 
Robert were set free, the same vessel could carry 
them to France, and thus, as Uncle Remy said, we 
could kill two birds with one stone. 

“I have another suggestion to make,” Windsor 
said. “How would it be if my sweetheart were to 
accompany the fugitives. As I have already told 
you, I shall have to leave England within the next 
month, for an indefinite time, and I could then 
join Mary in Brussels or Cologne.” 


342 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

After a few moments’ consideration, Uncle 
Remy replied that he saw no objection to this 
scheme. I opposed it, however, saying I could not 
bear to leave grandmother. But Windsor urged 
that sooner or later the parting must come, as I 
had promised to be his wife, and it was only a 
question of a few weeks. He gave such good 
reasons for my departure, that I was obliged to con- 
sent, although with a heavy heart, and on the con- 
dition that my grandmother’s approval was gained. 

We agreed not to mention the subject until 
after supper, for which we found the table already 
spread when we reached the house. As soon as 
thanks were returned, Windsor expounded his 
scheme. Grandmother, who had the greatest con- 
fidence in Father Weston’s judgment, left to him 
the responsibility of deciding what it was best to 
do. The good Father asked several questions; 
presently, after a short prayer for divine guidance, 
he pronounced in favour of the plan. It was then 
arranged that Windsor should immediately return 
to London, and get everything in readiness to 
receive the fugitives in his house in the Strand. 
Uncle Remy meanwhile was to escort us through 
the wood to Putney, where he knew a fisherman, 
in whose boat he had often gone out on the river 
at night, harpooning fish by torchlight. In this 
boat he would row us to the riversteps at the end 
of Windsor’s garden, where my betrothed would 
await us between one and two in the morning, 
before daybreak, that is. 

This was no sooner said than done ; for there 
was no time to be lost. I hurriedly put together 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 343 

a few things ; grandmother gave Frith and me her 
blessing, holding ns* clasped in a fond embrace. 
The farewells were heartrending ; we had to tear 
ourselves away. Frith enjoined upon Anne to 
take good care of his pony, saying when the 
Queen was dead we should come back, as the child 
Jesus did when Herod was no more. 

“Yes, children, ” said grandmother, “think of 
the flight into Egypt, and take for your companions 
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. May God and His good 
angels be with you!” 

Again TJncle Eemy warned us that time 
pressed ; once more I embraced my grandmother 
and sister, and then the gate closed behind us. I 
turned to take one last look at Woxindon, whose 
turrets stood out darkly against the star-lit sky, 
before the trees of the wood we were entering, shut 
it out from sight. How bitter was my grief at that 
moment! May I not hope that God in his mercy 
will grant, that those who thus left house and home 
for His name’s sake, will be received by Him into 
everlasting dwellings? 

Scarcely a word was spoken as we rode through 
the wood ; even little Frith was silent. When we 
drew near Putney, Father Weston parted from us 
as his course lay up the river to Henley. 1 ) We 

x ) Father Weston, whose name will not again appear 
in these pages, fell into the hands of spies about a month 
later, and was consigned to the Clink. For seventeen 
years, until the end of Elizabeth’s reign, he was dragged 
from one prison to another, and finally immured in one 
of the dungeons of the Tower. Broken in health, and 
almost blind, in May 1603 he was set at liberty ; but com- 
pelled to leave the kingdom. He died at Valladolid in 
1615, in the odour of sanctity. Cf. Life of Fr. Weston, 
Troubles of our Catholic forefathers. Series ii. 


344 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

found the boat moored by the riverside, and Uncle 
Remy succeeded in making* it loose. He made 
Miss Cecil and me crouch down in the bottom of 
the boat, while Frith took the rudderstrings, steer- 
ing by uncle’s directions. Not a syllable was 
uttered as we shot rapidly down the stream, aided 
by the current. We made it our aim to keep as 
much as possible in the middle of the river, and 
thus could scarcely distinguish anything on the 
banks. But as we passed Westminster, the moon 
came out from behind a cloud, and lit up the out- 
lines of the Abbey. By its light Uncle Remy des- 
cried a barge, moored a short distance ahead of us, 
which he rightly devined to be that of the river 
watch. He begged Miss Cecil and me to lie down 
flat in the bottom of the boat, and over our pros- 
trate forms he threw a dragnet, which was in the 
skiff. A few moments later a challenge rang out ; 
uncle answered it. Almost immediately a boat 
came up alongside of us. “ Any priests on board?” 
a gruff voice demanded. 

“Not a man alive, save this lad and myself,” 
was the reply. 

“What have you got there in the bottom of 
the boat ?” 

“Nets, as you may see if you care to look.” 

“Well, well, give us a trifle, and we will let 
you pass.” 

Uncle handed over a gratuity ; then he plied 
the oars vigorously and we glided swiftly onward. 
I heard the Westminster clock strike one ; about 
a quarter of an hour later we stopped at the steps 
on the river bank. As soon as the boat was made 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 345 

fast, I heard Windsor’s voice asking where the 
ladies were ? Uncle bade him to be silent; then he 
drew aside the dirty, unsavoury nets, and helped 
Miss Cecil and me to get up. A thick bank of 
clouds had come up before the moon, so that it 
was very dark on the river ; in the space of a few 
moments we were safe indoors. 

We found Tichbourne awaiting us. Some light 
refreshments were laid out on a table, and some 
mulled wine was prepared for us, of which we were 
very glad on coming in from the chilly night air. 

Windsor had given up his room and helped 
old Barbara to get it ready for us girls, while a bed 
had been made up for Frith in Tichbourne’ s bed- 
chamber. There Uncle Remy left us, for he had to 
take the boat he had borrowed back to Putney, but 
he promised, if possible, to come again in the even- 
ing, as the next night was to be that of our flight. 

We then retired to rest, old Barbara showing 
us to our room, and very civilly offering her serv- 
ices to undress us. This however we declined, as 
we preferred to be alone. 

The whole of the next day we kept ourselves 
carefully out of sight, much to the vexation of little 
Frith, who peeped longingly between the half closed 
shutters, now at the street and now on the river. 
The confinement was however less irksome to him 
than it otherwise would have been, on account of 
the weather, for the rain fell steadily all day long. 
When I complained to Windsor at having such 
horrible weather for our flight, he said, we could 
not be thankful enough for it. On such a night as 
this the Thames was as safe as the Rhine, and the 


346 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

sentries on tlie Clink did not stir from their boxes. 
Had there been intervals of moonlight as there 
were yesternight, the venture would have been too 
hazardous to be attempted, and we need not fear a 
wetting, for Bill Bell would provide us with tarred 
capes and cloaks. 

After supper we lay down for a brief rest. I 
fell into a sound sleep, from which I was startled 
by a knock at the door, warning us that it was 
time to start. Uncle Remy had come, bringing all 
manner of affectionate messages from Woxindon, 
where nothing had occurred since our departure. 
We were soon attired in oilskin cloaks, with sailor’s 
hats on our heads, and such comical figures did we 
cut in this disguise, that, for all our grief and 
anguish of heart, we could not refrain from laugh- 
ing at one another. 

Just as the bell of . St. Paul’s tolled out the 
hour of midnight, the boatman’s boy came to tell 
us his father was ready. We bade our host fare- 
well ; I promised to write to Windsor as soon as 
we reached Dunkirk. One last kiss, one last 
embrace, and out we went into the dark night and 
fast falling rain. 

We two girls and Frith took our place in the 
bottom of the light skiff which our conductor had 
chosen for this expedition ; the seats were reserved 
for the rowers, and the boatman’s boy, a sharp 
youngster, took the rudderstrings. The necessity 
of preserving absolute silence having been duly 
impressed on us, we pushed off in the name of God, 
and drifted down alongside the bank until the 
frowning walls of the Clink were discernible through 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 347 

the gloom. The footsteps of the patrol going his 
rounds were audible ; we waited in breathless sus- 
pense until they had passed ; then finding ourselves 
unobserved, with a few quick strokes of the oars, 
the skiff was brought close under the walls, below 
the fourth window. 

Again we waited and listened ; no sound was 
to be heard but the pattering of the rain and the 
rush of the water as it flowed past. Then up got 
Bill Bell, and taking a dark lantern from under 
the seat, opened it, and threw a ray of light on the 
roof of the prison, lowering it gradually till it 
shone full on one of the windows just under the 
eaves. A figure appeared at the window, remov- 
ing one by one the iron bars which had been filed 
through. As the light fell upon his countenance, 
I recognized Uncle Bobert ; I could hardly repress 
a scream, when I saw him secure a rope to the 
bottom of the iron bars, throw the end down to us, 
and then clamber out through the aperture. Our 
men drew in the rope and held it tightly; the 
lantern was closed, and in a few moments, during 
which I held my breath in terrified apprehension, 
the prisoner slid down the rope and let himself 
noiselessly into the boat. We shook his hand 
without a word. The men resumed their seats, 
and taking up the oars, put off from the bank. 

We now breathed freely, imagining all fear of 
discovery was past. Suddenly a warder, probably 
the one whom the boatman had bribed, anxious to 
avert suspicion from himself, raised the cry: “Turn 
out the guard! a prisoner has escaped ! Help!” 

“Shout yourself hoarse,” muttered old Bell, 


348 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“it will not be easy to overtake us. Pull a long 
stroke and all together, we have a good quarter of 
an hour’s start.” 

He gave Johnny a sign, the boat’s head was 
turned, and until we were out of sight of the 
shouting warder, we made a feint of going up the 
river. But soon resuming our former direction, 
we shot down the stream like an arrow, propelled 
by four pairs of oars, tide and current both with 
us. Passing by on the opposite side, we saw lights 
moving to and fro outside the Clink, and some of 
the guard running down to the docks, where the 
boats lay. Swiftly we flew past the crowd of 
vessels anchored below London Bridge, past the 
gloomy walls of the Tower, where so many Con- 
fessors of the Faith were immured, past the out- 
lying houses and the City Wall. 

Now we thought it was safe to speak. But 
the boatman said there was still great need for 
caution. The rain and darkness which were so 
much in our favour at the Clink, were now just 
the reverse, for we might easily run upon a sand- 
bank, or come into collision with one of the vessels 
waiting in midstream for the turn of the tide. He 
himself took the helm, and sent his boy into the 
bow, to keep a sharp lookout. 

The first streak of light in the east, heralding 
the dawn of day, found us between Woolwich and 
Gravesend. The river was getting broader, the 
banks flatter; nothing was to be seen but water, 
sandy reaches, left bare at low tide, and on the 
banks a few stunted willows. When the tide 
began to flow, rowing became more difficult, but a 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


349 


light breeze sprang up, our sail was hoisted, and 
we sped onwards to Gravesend. 

As it was nearly light when we got there, Bill 
proposed that we should go ashore, and pass the 
day at a secluded tavern which he pointed out to 
us, as he thought it unsafe to go on board the 
Jeanette by daylight. The police were sure to come 
down before long, and make inquiries for the fugi- 
tives. We followed his advice, and lay hidden 
till evening, when he came and under cover of the 
darkness, took us on board the Jeanette. 

“God who has helped us so far, will help us 
till the end,” whispered my affianced husband, as 
he assisted me up the ship’s ladder. I pressed 
his hand and followed the others in silence on to 
the deck. A few moments more, and the friendly 
skiff disappeared from our sight. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

St. Barbe visits Mary Stuart, and gives a report of his pro- 
ceedings to his Uncle Walsingham. 

My friend Windsor desires me now to continue 
our story, and I will not deny that there is much 
that I can tell which ought not to be omitted from 
this eventful narrative. 

The reader would not be greatly entertained 
were I to dwell upon the struggle that went on in 
my soul, distracted as it was by doubt. It is to 
my own humiliation and shame that I recall the 
resistance I offered to the truth, a resistance every 
day more culpable, as conviction was borne in upon 
me with greater force. 

Walsingham 7 s design in desiring me to take up 
my residence, as I did for a time, at Chartley, was 
that I might watch Windsor and the captive Queen. 
The more I saw of Windsor, the greater was the 
esteem I felt for him. He seemed to devote him- 
self to the care of the sick poor, seeking no other 
recreation than a solitary walk, reading his favourite 
Virgil in the shade of some spreading tree, or 
angling in the Trent or the Dove. In fact he 
appeared to be the most pacific of mankind, and 
had I not known for certain that he was involved 
in Babington’s plot, I should have thought him the 
last man to engage in anything of the sort. Xor 
did I ever hear of his being seen in the company of 
suspicious characters. He avoided me ; this was 
only natural, as he could not but be aware that I 
( 350 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 351 

was there to play the spy on him, and put a spoke 
in his wheel, when opportunity offered. 

Still greater was the esteem wherewith Mary 
Stuart inspired me. I had sought to stifle the 
admiration which her bounty to the poor exacted 
on the occasion of my first visit to Chartley, by 
persuading myself that she was actuated by motives 
of policy, or at least, by Popish ideas of selfrighte- 
ousness. But now, when I saw and talked to her 
almost daily, I was forced to acknowledge that her 
motives were of the most exalted character. Her 
patience and gentleness contrasted strikingly with 
Sir Amias Paulet’s harsh, uncourteous behaviour ; 
scarcely ever did a word of bitterness escape her 
lips, although the indisposition from which she 
suffered might have excused some amount of irrita- 
bility. Nor, in spite of the humiliations to which 
she was subjected, did she ever lose the sense of 
her regal dignity. Of Elizabeth, her deadly enemy, 
she always spoke with moderation, repeatedly 
expressing the wish that she could have a personal 
interview with her, as she was certain that all the 
misunderstandings caused by third persons would 
then melt away like snow in the spring sunshine. 
She complained very much of her Eoyal Sister’s 
persistant refusal to allow her this favour that she 
asked. Of my TJncle Walsingham she judged too 
leniently ; perhaps from politeness towards myself, 
more probably because he had advocated her 
release. Burghley she regarded as her bitterest 
foe, and when his name was mentioned, begged me 
never to speak of him before her, as she found it 
almost impossible to forgive him for having lent 


352 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

his weight to the Scottish rebels and murderers, to 
destroy her good name. 

She related to me her whole history, from the 
time when, a child of six, she was taken to the 
French Court as the future bride of the Dauphin, 
there to spend twelve happy years, the only happy 
years of her life. She told me how she had, on the 
death of Queen Mary, as the heir to the crown, 
assumed the arms and title of Queen of England, 
thereby provoking Elizabeth’s undying enmity ; 
and how, a widow when scarcely eighteen, she left 
France to ascend the throne of Scotland, disturbed 
and in unruly times, when the hand of a young and 
inexperienced woman was singularly ill-fitted to 
take the helm of the State. 

“I should have been treated with the greatest 
regard,” she said, “had I consented to adopt the 
doctrines preached by Knox. But as I announced 
my determination to adhere to the Koman Catholic, 
the only true Church, Knox openly insulted and 
defied me, and in league with him and his fanatical 
preachers, the Lords of the Covenant never rested un- 
til they ruined my good name and saw me cast into 
prison. And yet I solemnly swore to respect the 
Reformed religion as then established, nor did I 
ever persecute one of my subjects on account of 
his creed.” 

She then proceeded to relate how her marriage 
with her cousin, Henry Darnley, had been a further 
cause of offence to Elizabeth ; how she had proposed, 
in a constitutional manner, to establish the Catholic 
religion ; how Darnley betrayed his royal consort, 
and caused Rizio, her secretary, who was conducting 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 353 


the proceedings, to be assassinated in her very pres- 
ence. How Darnley was deceived in his turn by the 
Covenanters, who refused him the reward of his 
treachery, the kingly power to which he aspired, 
and displayed to the Queen the document he had 
signed, in proof of the infamous part he had played. 
How she had, at his entreaty, freely forgiven him, 
refused to consent to a separation, and after his 
illness, been fully reconciled to him. 

And then came the explosion which destroyed 
the house of Kirk-in-the-Field where Darnley was 
sleeping! Murray, Morton and Butliven were 
accomplices in this murder ; Both well was acquitted 
by his judges, and their verdict was confirmed by 
Parliament. “But suspicion still attached to him , 7 7 
the Queen said, “and therefore I steadfastly refused 
to marry him, despite the pressure brought to bear 
on me by a strong party of the Lords. Then he 
resorted to violence, carried me off to his castle at 
Dunbar, and compelled me to go through the cere- 
mony which would give him the position of power 
he coveted. Would that I had died a thou- 
sand times rather than submit to it! For this 
compulsory marriage put a weapon in my adversa- 
ries 7 hands, and gave a colouring of truth to the 
vile accusation they brought against me of having 
connived at my husband’s murder. Some forged 
letters were brought forward in support of this 
charge, and my fate was sealed. An insurrection 
of the Lords of the Covenant was followed by my 
incarceration at Lochleven and the complete aboli- 
tion of the Catholic religion. After my escape from 
Lochleven with the aid of the brave George Douglas, 


354 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

and the fatal defeat at Langside, I fled to Eng- 
land, where, as you know, instead of the promised 
assistance on which I relied, I found perpetual im- 
prisonment in store for me. My principal enemies 
were, within a short time, arraigned before the 
judgment-seat of God; Murray was assassinated, 
Mar died suddenly, Morton and Ruthven were 
executed for the murder of Darnley, almost all met 
with a violent death ; may God forgive them, as I 
strive to do! Only one thing is a source of con- 
tinual anxiety to me ; the salvation of my only son, 
whom I left, an infant in the cradle, when I was 
taken as a prisoner to Lochleven. To win him 
back to the Catholic faith, I would gladly sacrifice 
my life.” 

This sorrowful story, which was told me in 
detail, differed on many points from the account 
which I had previously heard. I cannot deny that 
I was deeply moved by it. Everything about it 
seemed to bear the impress of truth, and I said 
within myself, if this is a tissue of lies and hypoc- 
risy, Mary Stuart is an accomplished deceiver, and 
I shall find the means of unmasking her. Should I 
discover her to be in any way mixed up in the 
design of murdering Elizabeth, not a single word 
will I believe of her self-defence, although it is 
stated so calmly, and bears so strong an appearance 
of truth. 

The captive Queen did not tell me her history 
as a connected whole, but in parts, at different 
times, yet I never detected any discrepancy in her 
statements. Once I asked her what she would do 
if she were set at liberty. She replied that formerly 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 355 


it was her design, should she regain her freedom, 
to hasten to Scotland, to withdraw her son from 
the influence of sycophants, and defeat their 
schemes ; and to call upon the faithful Catholics 
in the lowlands, as well as the highland clans, to 
unite in one supreme effort to maintain the Catholic 
faith in the country. But now she had completely 
abandoned all such ideas ; the time for action was 
past, her son was already 20 years of age. She 
would therefore retire to her beloved France, to 
her relatives of the House of Guise, to end her 
days in peace and the undisturbed exercise of her 
religion. Many and many a time had she besought 
her Royal Sister of England to release her from 
this almost intolerable captivity, but she would 
only consent to do so on certain conditions, two of 
which could not be accepted, namely that she 
renounce her claim to the crown of England, and 
abjure the Catholic faith. In the first she was now 
willing to acquiesce, as far as she was personally 
concerned, provided her royal rank was recognized 
and no obstacle placed in the way of the practice 
of her religion. The other was of course impossible. 

I uttered a few words of encouragement, al- 
though I saw the block already prepared for her in 
prospect; alas, did I not myself aim at obtaining 
proofs of her guilt! The continual struggle that 
went on within me was most painful. Was she 
innocent or the contrary? Was her faith true or a 
delusion of the Evil one ? Ought I to lend my aid 
to Windsor and Babington for the rescue of the 
Queen, or hand both her and them over to the 
executioner ? What counsel should I give to Miss 


356 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Cecil! How were her doubts and my own to be 
solved ! Was it not possible I might finally dis- 
cover it to be my duty to return to the Church of 
my forefathers, and give in my adherence to doc- 
trines which I had till now regarded as deadly 
error ! Then all the frightful consequences of such 
a step rose up before my mind’s eye in vivid 
colours ; the loss of position, the loss of wealth, 
honours, high office, which the future had in store 
for me — exile from my country. No, a thousand 
times no! I exclaimed, I will not, cannot believe. 
It is all a lie, a delusion and a deceit ! 

This conflict went on within me for several 
weeks, during which I found no rest by day or 
night, for I had not recourse to the only means of 
relief, humble prayer for enlightenment and guid- 
ance. — I was heartily glad when towards the end 
of June, Gifford brought me a note from my uncle, 
requiring my presence in London. I preferred to 
start on my journey alone, rather than wait for 
Windsor, who was going a day later than myself, 
although on account of the insecurity of the roads, 
especially in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, 
the company of a fellow-traveler was generally 
accepted gladly. On my arrival, I betook myself 
immediately to my uncle’s house. 

He received me very kindly, but remarked 
upon my altered appearance, for I was looking 
thin and ill. This was owing to my mental unrest, 
but I told him I had not slept very well lately, and 
did not think Chartley a healthy place. He an- 
swered that he was all the more pleased that there 
would not be occasion for me to remain there much 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 357 


longer, as matters must soon be brought to a 
climax. He then took me into his private room, 
and asked me a great many questions about the 
royal prisoner and her new physician, all of which 
I answered truthfully, to the best of my knowledge. 

For a short time W alsingham sat silent appar- 
ently pondering over what he had heard. At last 
he said: “It is really much to be regretted that 
Windsor and Tichbourne, who seem to be honour- 
able and estimable young men, should have associ- 
ated themselves with that fellow Babington. How- 
ever, it is their own doing, and they must suffer 
for it. We have abundant evidence of their trea- 
sonable designs. What we now want, is to procure 
some proof of Mary Stuart being a party to those 
designs, and this I fully expect to have within the 
next fortnight. All the conspirators are to meet 
at the Blue Boar on Friday. Babington will then 
probably acquaint them with Savage’s proposal, of 
which they are for the most part ignorant and there 
will be rather a sharp contest, for strangely enough , 
these Papists are in the main wonderfully loyal to 
Elizabeth. What I trust to is the influence of a 
man named John Ballard, 1 ) formerly in my pay as 
a spy. He was instrumental in bringing many a 
Papist to the gallows, but, for what reason I know 
not, he became a Papist himself, and made some 
studies — not very profound ones I should imagine 
— in their college at Douay. Well, as is often the 
case, this convert evinced extraordinary fervour, 
and this induced Dr. Allen to ordain him priest. 

J ) Cf. Hosack, Mary Queen of Scots and her accusers, 
ii, 838. 


358 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Now. so Gifford informs me, this zealous, but not 
very wise personage, desires to wash out with his 
blood the stain of having once been a persecutor. 
We will see that this wish is gratified. He is now 
going about, dressed in a military garb, under the 
name of Fortescue, ostensibly to get recruits for 
the army in the Netherlands, in realty to collect in- 
formation for the exiles in Paris concerning the view 
taken in England of Parma’s projected invasion. 
Naturally I was desirous to bring him and Babing- 
ton together, and this has been done by means of 
Gifford, who is a clever fellow and most useful to 
me, as he is utterly unprincipled and unscrupulous. 
Ballard is living with Babington now, and I devoutly 
hope that in his foolish zeal, he will listen to 
Gifford’s advice, and involve both the Scottish 
Queen and Babington with all his associates in 
Savage’s murderous scheme.” 

“Then hitherto there has been nothing in the 
prisoner’s letters by which she incriminates her- 
self ?” 1 asked. 

“Not a single word,” Walsingham replied. 
“There is the whole correspondence transcribed by 
Philipps. The dexterity that fellow displays in 
deciphering and imitating handwriting is really 
marvelous. x ) She has heard of Parma’s plan and 
approves of it, as a matter of course ; she knows 
something of Babington’ s plot, too, and encourages 
him in general terms. - But she is a shrewd woman, 
and does not make use of an expression hostile to 
Elizabeth nor one that could be called treasonable. 
The thing that astonishes me most in her is the 


J ) Ibid. ii. 381. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 359 

tenacity with which she clings to the Popish creed. 
Amongst the letters lying there you will find one 
addressed to the Archbishop of Glasgow, in Paris, 
wherein she makes the stipulation that, if Philip of 
Spain should conquer England and Scotland, her 
son should be instructed in the Catholic religion, 
‘which!’ she says, ‘is the thing of this world I 
most desire, affecting a great deal rather the salva- 
tion of his soul, than to see him monarch of all 
Europe.’ 2 ) A singular infatuation, is it not?” 

“She said the same to me,” I answered. “She 
told me that it was on account of her adhesion to 
her religion that she was compelled to exchange 
the throne for a prison, and she would rather end 
her days in captivity than give up her faith. She 
stands out, besides, for the recognition of her royal 
rank, and the privileges attaching to it, I do not 
know why.” 

“She is wise in doing that, for were she to 
renounce these rights, the very next day she would 
be tried for complicity in Darnley’s murder, and 
condemned to death.” 

“Do you seriously believe in her guilt? She 
told a different story to me.” 

“To tell the truth, I do not. But it is not a 
question of that now. There is no chance that she 
would be acquitted f she would be made to appear 
guilty, and public opinion is against her. How- 
ever, as I said, she will never be tried for that. 
As soon as we have got proof that she is in any 
way implicated in the design against Elizabeth’s 
life, the new bill will render nugatory all her rights 


2 ) Ibid. ii. 33. 


360 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDOtf. 

as a Queen. We must wait and see what news 
Gifford will bring the day after to-morrow. I shall 
commission my emissaries to spread the report to- 
night of a general massacre of the Papists.” 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


St. Barbe speaks of the mental conflict he sustained, and 

how he was tormented by the demon of jealousy. 

That same night, the eve of St. Peter and St. 
Paul, when the tremendous storm broke over Lon- 
don, I could not sleep. I rose, accordingly, and 
busied myself with the perusal of Mary Stuart 7 s 
letters. Was she really the shrewd, artful woman 
my uncle thought her? Was not her tenacious ad- 
herence to the Catholic faith, which appeared in 
every letter, the offspring of her most heartfelt con- 
viction? What truly Christian generosity, what 
heroic fortitude this conviction produced! The 
words occurred to my mind : By their fruits ye 
shall know them. I could not help contrasting 
this woman with Burghley, who abjured his beliefs, 
sacrificed his friends, whenever he could thereby 
promote his own interests. Or with my uncle, per- 
sonally a man of honour, not, like Burghley, bent 
on enriching himself at the public expense, but yet 
setting aside all principles of honour and justice to 
gain his political ends. Finally what could be 
greater than the contrast she presented to our 
Queen, a woman of ungoverned passions, enslaved 
by pride and vanity ! 

Reflecting thus, I no longer wondered at the 
project of the young English nobles, the develop- 
ment of which my uncle and 1 were watching, 
and I actually began to hope that it might suc- 
ceed. And how easily I might ensure its success? 
Walsingham had as good as put into my hand the 
( 361 ) 


362 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

key of Mary Stuart’s prison. I had only to say a 
word to Windsor, a man whom I could not do 
otherwise but esteem, and we two could convey her 
out of England, before my uncle and Lord Burgh- 
ley had an inkling of it. There would be no dif- 
ficulty in locking that old bear Paulet up in his 
own den. And when once the royal lady was at 
liberty, safe in Parma’s camp, how would Eliz- 
abeth be able to withstand the onslaught of the 
victorious army of Flanders, which would im- 
mediately descend upon our shores'? What would 
follow then? The forcible extirpation of the Re- 
formed religion — to which, despite all my doubts, 
I still clung — a Spanish reign of terror — the In- 
quisition — the rekindling of the fires of Smithfield, 
and all the woes with the tale of which my youth- 
ful fancy was fed. Could I bear to witness all this, 
even with the charming Judith for my bride, bound- 
less wealth at my disposal, one of the highest of- 
fices of State as my reward? 

N o : my uncle was right ; England was now a 
Protestant country and such it must remain, unless 
we were to be involved in a terrible civil war, or 
the best blood of the land shed in quelling a wide- 
spread insurrection. The Puritans would not sub- 
mit to a tenth part of the oppression which the 
Catholics had endured for a quarter of a century. 
I came to the conclusion that Mary Stuart’s escape 
must be prevented, or still better, she must be put 
to death, if only proof could be found against her. 

The next day but one, while I was sitting at 
breakfast with my uncle, a messenger brought a 
letter from Gifford, giving an account of all that 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 363 


had passed at the meeting of the conspirators the 
previous evening. When my uncle . heard the 
report of the spy, he said Windsor must have a 
drastic potion administered to him to keep him 
quiet. He would himself provide the prescription 
that would cure him, a warrant of arrest, duly 
signed and sealed, which I should carry down to 
Chartley with me, and put into execution as soon 
as Mary Stuart’s answer to Babington’ s next letter 
was in our hands. The most essential part of the 
business was that Babington, influenced by Gif- 
ford’s and Ballard’s persuasions, should have the 
insensate folly to lay the whole plan, in which Sav- 
age’s offer would be included, before the prisoner, 
for her sanction. That Babington and Savage un- 
derstood one another was quite certain ; the latter 
was only waiting to carry out his design until the 
plot was fully matured. 

“The whole concern is of a graver complexion 
than I at first imagined,” he continued. “The 
Papists are a stronger party than Burghley allows ; 
and these young men display courage and deter- 
mination. Notwithstanding the extreme folly of 
their leader, I have my misgivings as to the final 
issue of the plot. Were any of the measures I have 
taken to fail of their end, I should answer for it 
with my head. Elizabeth will not be trifled with. 
Remember, our only confederates are despicable 
rogues like this Gifford, the ‘honest’ brewer, Poo- 
ley, Philipps, Gregory and their crew, each and all 
of whom would not hesitate to play the traitor to 
me, if any one on the other side offered them a 
higher bribe. Let us hope our adversaries are too 


364 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

honourable or too stupid to profit by their treach- 
ery. Courage, my boy, and prudence! The crisis 
is imminent!” 

On the following morning another messenger 
presented himself, bearing the tidings that during 
the past night a prisoner had escaped from the 
Clink, and gone, as it appeared, up the river. In 
answer to my uncle’s queries as to the name of 
the prisoner and the nature of his offence, the 
man replied that his name was Bellamy, a recusant 
from Woxindon, incarcerated on account of having 
harboured a Popish priest. 

“Bellamy of Woxindon!” repeated my uncle. 
“Do you recollect two children, Frank, whom Top- 
cliff e shut up in Newgate, and who were released 
at Windsor’s and Babington’s request? Was not 
their name Bellamy?” 

I remembered the incident quite well ; I re- 
membered also, how the two children had seen 
their uncle in his cell in the Clink, and I told my 
uncle about it. 

“See there,” he rejoined, “Windsor and Bab- 
ington again! Depend upon it, this is their doing. 
Well, they shall hear of it some time or other. How 
and when was the escape discovered?” he inquired 
of the messenger. 

“They had just pushed off from the bank when 
Grey spied them,” the man replied. 

“Let Grey be taken into custody immediately, 
on suspicion of connivance,” Walsingham ordered. 

“How could the man possibly have seen the 
prisoner escape on such a night, if he had not 
known all about it? Most probably he lent a help- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 365 


ing hand, and then gave the alarm to save his own 
skin! ” 

No sooner had the door closed behind this 
messenger, than Lord Bnrghley was announced. 
My uncle hastened to meet him, as he knew that so 
unusual an event as a visit from the Lord Treas- 
urer, and at so early an hour, presaged some 
occurrence of no slight consequence. I bowed 
when he entered, and was about to withdraw, but 
Bnrghley who was in a state of extraordinary 
perturbation, begged me to remain. When he had 
recovered himself sufficiently to communicate his 
tidings, he told us what I had already guessed, 
that his daughter had become a Papist ; further- 
more that she had absconded from Court in the 
company of one of the Queen’s pages, a lad named 
Bellamy, who for his insolence to the Queen de- 
served to be sent to the gallows. 

“What!” I exclaimed, “can that be pos- 
sible? Bellamy is not more than ten or twelve 
years old. How can Miss Judith have eloped 
with him?” 

“There is no question of an elopement, my 
daughter doesn’t want to be married. She has 
very different ideas in her head. She says she 
is going to enter a convent abroad to do penance 
and pray for my conversion. There is the dutiful 
epistle I received from her.” So saying, the irate 
father drew a crumpled letter from his pocket and 
flung it on the table. 

“Whatever am I to do now?” he added. 

“Get possession of your daughter again by 
all means,” my uncle answered. “Everything can 


366 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

be managed then. When she is once under the 
gentle rule of a good husband, we shall hear no 
more of these girlish fancies. ” 

“You are quite right, and one object I had in 
coming here was to urge the bridegroom you pro- 
posed for her, to aid me in my search. The mar- 
riage shall be concluded as soon as we get her back. 
What is to be done first?” 

W alsingham replied that messengers on horse- 
back should be despatched to all the nearest ports, 
with a description of the fugitives, and the offer of 
a reward of £10 to anyone who should detain them. 
When he heard that three days and three nights 
had already elapsed since their flight, he looked 
grave. 

“They were not missed until the Court had 
removed to Windsor, and the news reached me at 
the same time as this letter,” the Lord Treasurer 
explained. 

“The flight apparently was not planned long 
beforehand,” continued Walsingham, or I should 
be inclined to connect it with another event, that 
took plaee only last night, of which I have just 
heard, the escape of a prisoner named Bellamy, 
the brother or uncle of that page, from the Clink* 
Yet when I come to think of it, it maybe so. They 
may have made their way from Richmond to Wox- 
indon, and waited there or elsewhere, until the 
prisoner could effect his escape, according to a pre- 
concerted plan, and they all could cross the seas 
together. The boat in which the captive was res- 
cued is said to have gone up the river, but that 
may only have been a feint. The probability is 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 367 


that they are all now in hiding somewhere in London 
or Woxindon, intending to cross the channel to- 
night, or at any rate before many days have 
passed. Thus we may hope to be in time to stop 
them, as no vessel will leave the mouth of the 
Thames before ebbtide. I will have several houses 
I know of, strictly watched, and at Woxindon a 
domiciliary search must be made.” 

“That search shall be thorough, if aught 
that I can do will make it so,” Burghley said, as 
he rose to depart. “Will you accompany me, 
St. Barbel” 

I assented willingly, and hastened to give the 
necessary directions to the secretaries, and enjoin 
on them despatch in transcribing the letters, which 
were duly signed and sealed by the Lord Treas- 
urer. A little later I found myself riding by his 
side in the direction of Harrow, followed by a troop 
of men-at-arms. 

The rain which had been falling all night, had 
not yet ceased, and the roads were in a terrible 
state. This did not tend to raise my spirits or those 
of my companion. We were wet through and 
covered with mud when we reached Harrow, and 
stopped before the house of Sir Richard Page, the 
mayor. That corpulent personage was filled with 
consternation at seeing the Lord Treasurer in per- 
son at his door ; when he heard what brought him 
thither, he poured out a flood of denunciations 
against his Popish relatives. He himself would 
conduct the search, he said, as he was acquainted 
with every corner of the manor house, and the 
whole village should turn out, to form a cordon 
round it. 


368 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

As soon as this was done, we proceeded to the 
house, Burghley, Page and myself, with a chosen 
band of pursuivants, and demanded admittance. 
The few old servants whom we found there were 
interrogated first. Not until the Lord Treasurer 
threatened them with the rack, would they admit 
that, while the storm was at its height, Master 
Frith, who had been for a time at Court, returned 
home, accompanied by a young lady. They had 
left the next day, whither they went, they did not 
know. On being asked who had gone with them, 
the servants parried the question. At length one 
of the maids, who was trembling with fright, said 
a young gentleman had come from London and 
fetched them away. This she said with the evi- 
dent intention of exonerating her employers. 

I inquired whether it was Mr. Babington? “No,” 
the girl replied, “not the gentleman who married 
Miss Anne, but another, who had often come with 
him ; rather a short gentleman, with a high colour 
and brown hair.” 

“That must be Windsor!” I exclaimed. 

‘ ‘Perhaps that was his name ; and I heard he 
was to marry the young lady,” the serving- woman 
added. 

I opened my eyes very wide on hearing this. 
Burghley simply remarked he had suspected some- 
thing of the kind, religion could not be the only 
motive ; where young girls were concerned, there 
was sure to be some love affair in the background. 
He asked me who this Windsor was? 

I replied that he was Lord Windsor’s brother, 
an inveterate Papist, but it was hardly possible 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 369 


that he could be intimately acquainted with Miss 
Judith. 

“Quite possible,” the young lady’s father 
rejoined. “I should not be surprised if it was he 
who gave her that accursed book of Campion’s, 
and corresponded with her about it. These amours 
often spring up in this way; you know, St. Barbe, 
you yourself began with something very like it!” 

The arrow hit its mark ; the fire of jealousy, 
which such a slight matter kindles, began to con- 
sume my heart. 

The domiciliary visit was not productive of 
great results. A handkerchief marked with the 
initials J. C. testified to Miss Cecil’s having been 
there. The only members of the family who were 
at home were the old granddame, very infirm and 
feeble, one of her granddaughters and one of her 
sons, a goodnatured fellow, but partly imbecile. 
The old lady did not attempt to deny of having given 
shelter to a stranger during the recent heavy storm ; 
but that, she said, could be no crime. The visitor 
had departed on the morrow, she was not aware 
of her destination. 

On the mayor inquiring as to the whereabouts 
of her son Remy and her other two grandchildren, 
she replied with perfect composure, that their ab- 
sence either was or was not connected with an 
event concerning which the authorities had a right 
to make investigation. In the latter case, their 
absence from home and the place they were in con- 
cerned no one : in the former, no law could compel 
a mother to give evidence against her own child. 


370 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Burgkley bit liis lips with rage, but the old lady 
was not to be intimidated. From the imbecile son, 
whom they called Barty, and from the granddaughter 
nothing could be extorted; the young lady com- 
plained of severe headache, and indeed she looked 
unwell, though I fancy her chief malady was self- 
will. Thus the examination of the inhabitants 
of the house ended without information of any 
moment having been elicited. The search, in which 
the outhouses and a ruined castle in the immediate 
vicinity were included, was equally fruitless* A 
hiding place, provisioned for case of need, was dis- 
covered, but there was no one in it. So we had to 
ride back through the rain and mud to London, 
without having attained our object. The long ride 
and the annoyance upset the Lord Treasurer so 
much, that it brought on a violent attack of gout, 
which confined him to his room for several weeks. 

We found no tidings awaiting us from Graves- 
end or any other of the ports. Walsingham told 
me, as the result of his inquiries, that neither Bab- 
ington nor Tichbourne had left town, but nothing 
could be heard of Windsor. This confirmed my 
suspicions ; they were strengthened still more by a 
letter that my uncle showed me the next morning. 
It had been taken from a skipper’s boy, who had 
orders to deliver it into Tichbourne 7 s hands. It 
was addressed to Tichbourne, and ran as follows : 

To my faithful and dearly beloved, greeting 
and brotherly love! These lines, written in haste 
from the Thames, are to convey to you the joyful 
tidings that I have placed my sweetheart in safety 
on board the vessel in question, for which thanks 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 371 


be to God. Give the worthy B. B. a gratuity, he 
has well earned it in truth ! He will put rue ashore 
on the Essex coast, whence I shall take horse to 
Chartley by way of Bedford, as I shall be safer 
there than in London. Salute Babington and the 
others from me. Now that I am assured as to the 
safety of my affianced bride, I shall have a better 
heart for the carrying out of our scheme. W. 

All doubt was now removed. Miss Cecil Wind- 
sor’s affianced bride! I was consumed with rage, 
and a missive from the mayor of Gravesend poured 
oil on the flames. It was to certify that the mes- 
senger who carried the despatch, having been acci- 
dentally detained en route , did not arrive until an 
hour after some of the vessels had weighed anchor ; 
amongst these was the Jeanette , bound for Dunkirk, 
which he thought suspicious, and in pursuit of 
which a man-of-war had been sent. The other 
craft had been boarded, but no discovery made. 

I ground my teeth in impotent anger, and 
wanted my uncle to arrest Windsor forthwith. But 
he shook his head, and bade me have patience, for 
to put him in prison would be to defeat all our 
plans for the peace of the country ; besides he was 
guilty of nothing for which he could be brought to 
the gallows. ‘ ‘Let us have patience awhile, ’ ’ he con- 
cluded “he shall be reckoned with for everything 
sooner or later. This very day you shall start on your 
way to Chartley, with a warrant against him and his 
accomplices in your pocket. But it must not be 
put into execution, until Mary Stuart has answered 
Babington’ s letter, and made herself accessory to 
his crime.” 


CHAPTEK XXIX. 


St. Barbe relates how Mary Stuart’s letter to Babington was 
opened and deciphered. 

Nothing seemed changed on my return to 
Chartley ; Sir Amias was as surly as ever, his 
prisoner as gentle and dignified in her manner 
towards me as heretofore. I thought her however 
rather more cheerful and animated ; doubtless the 
hope of a speedy release, which her friends held 
out to her, gave her fresh life and spirit. I was 
so angry with Windsor, so embittered against all 
Papists, that I regarded her as a crafty hypocrite, 
and made my visits to her as short as possible. 

The day following my arrival I met Windsor 
in the inn. I was astonished at the frank cordiality 
of his greeting, which, for all the constraint I put 
upon myself, I could not return civilly. I feigned 
not to see his outstretched hand, and declined his 
invitation to drink a tankard of ale with him. He 
asked in some surprise, if he had unwillingly of- 
fended me? I answered, “Mr. Windsor, you appear 
to think all is fair in love as in war. But we have 
not got to the end of the day yet.” 

“I do not understand you,” he replied. “It 
is true that I am engaged to a young lady” — 

“Whom you have conveyed to a safe hiding- 
place!” I broke in. “You can hardly expect me 
to wish you joy, and drink a bumper to the success 
of your courtship.” 

He changed colour, and said nothing ; I turned 
my back on him and walked away. He hurried 
( 372 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 373 


after me, and laying liis hand on my arm, began 
something about a misunderstanding, but I threw 
off his hand, saying: “Keep your distance, sir! No 
Popish sneak shall treat me as a friend !” 

“A sneak !” he exclaimed, flushing crimson, 
and laying his hands on the hilt of his rapier. 
“Remember I have as good blood in my veins as 
you have, and my religion gives you no right to in- 
sult me, seeing I have always professed it openly.’ ’ 

“I do not call you a sneak on account of your 
religion,” I replied, “but because with your Jesuit- 
ical wiles you have perverted the young lady from 
her belief, and under cover of concern for her soul 
wormed a way into her affections. Out upon you 
for a hypocrite and sanctimonious dissembler ! 
You shall answer for it one day!” 

Restraining his anger, he said : “Mr. St. Barbe, 
you are under a strange misapprehension, and do 
me grievous wrong. But you are too much excited 
now to listen to reason. Let me assure you of one 
thing : I never had the slightest idea that you paid 
your addresses to my affianced bride, or that you 
were ever acquainted with her. I assure you on 
my word of honour.” — 

This was a little too much. Every lady at 
Court knew that I aspired to Miss Cecil’s hand. 
We were as good as engaged, for both the Queen 
and her father were known to favour my suit. And 
this man had the effrontery to tell me he knew 
nothing of it! I turned on my heel and left him 
there, in the midst of his x^rotestations. The next 
day I got a note from him : it was sent back un- 
opened ; nor when we met by chance would I return 
his salutation. 


374 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

About a week passed without anything note- 
worthy occurring. I heard of Windsor’s goings on 
from the waiter at the Mayflower . He went out a 
great deal to Babington’s place at Dethick, and 
the principal towns in the neighbourhood ; from all 
I heard, I gathered that the conspirators thought 
the time for action was come, and were collecting 
their forces to strike. I thought it advisable to 
take some precautions against the meditated blow. 
Without attracting attention, the garrison in the 
Castle was strengthened, and a body of men-at-arms 
were ordered to take up their quarters in the 
neighbouring town of Burton. The watch at the 
city gate had directions to keep a sharp look out, 
and should they at any time see the flag hoisted on 
the tower of Chartley, they were to hasten to the 
assistance of the garrison. Thus all was prepared 
on both sides, when one evening the fat brewer sent 
me word that Babington’s epistle had been delivered 
to the royal prisoner and she had let him know 
through her secretary that he should have an 
answer in three day’s time. 

On the day when this letter from the Queen 
was expected, I betook myself, as agreed, to the 
Green Dragon in Burton, where I found Philipps 
and Gregory, whom my uncle had sent down from 
London. As soon as it arrived, they were to open 
and decipher this letter, which, as Walsingliam 
said, would reveal to us Mary Stuart’s inmost 
heart. *) 


2 ) Hosack ii., p. 357. “We attend her very heart at the 
next.” Philipps to Walsingham. Record office 14th July. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 375 


It was with keen anticipation that we waited 
until the brewer should return, bringing with him 
the document upon which so much depended. 
Philipps and Gregory sat at a table on which pens 
and paper, small sharp knives and other imple- 
ments lay ready, for removing the seal and copying 
the contents of the letter. The two rogues were 
playing a game of cards to while away the time, 
while I paced impatiently up and down the room. 
Gifford was waiting below, prepared to carry the 
epistle to London the same night, after it had been 
re- sealed with all the skill for which Gregory was 
noted. It makes me sick now to think of those 
fellows. Gifford soon received the reward of his 
iniquity. Before twelve months had passed, he was 
thrown into prison in Paris for some criminal 
action, and there ended his days after the manner 
of the unhappy Judas. 

At last the heavy dray rolled into the yard, 
and we heard the empty casks taken out. I began 
to think that no letter was forthcoming, for more 
than an hour elapsed before the heavy tread of the 
obese brewer was heard ascending the stairs. He 
entered, and sinking into the nearest seat, began to 
wipe the prespiration from his brow, remarking 
that it was really too much for him to mount so 
high. If Jacob’s ladder, reaching to Heaven, 
about which his favourite preacher had recently 
discoursed with such unction, were half as steep 
as that staircase, he must decline the ascent alto- 
gether. 

“It is not very likely that you will require a 
ladder, when you go to your own place,” I inter- 


376 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

posed impatiently. “We want the letter, not to 
hear about your preachers.’ 7 

“I pray you have a little j^tience sir,” he 
rejoined. “Do not be hard on a good Christian, 
who has given up this world and the next in the 
service of Her Majesty and the pure Gospel.” 

“At any rate,” I replied, “you make a good 
thing of it as far as money goes. Give us the letter 
and leave us alone.’’’ 

He went on grumbling about the evil times, 
and how much it took to pay the hungry preachers 
with their wives and families ; meanwhile he slowly 
unbuttoned his doublet, and drew forth a thick 
packet of letters, tied up in parchment. As soon 
as he had carefully counted and pocketed the price 
of his treachery, he left the apartment. 

Quickly and deftly Gregory loosened the silken 
string, leaving the seal intact, and I was able to 
read the superscription of the various missives. 
They were addressed to the French ambassador, 
and to different prelates, princes, personages of 
note both in France and Scotland. But with these 
I was not concerned, the one of interest and impor- 
tance was the last, addressed “To our trusty and 
well-beloved Anthony Babington, Esquire. Lord 
of Dethick etc.” I looked closely at the seal. It 
bore the impress of the Queen’s ring; a square 
shield, quartered with the Scotch lion, the English 
leopards, the Irish harp and the French lilies. On 
each side of the shield were the letters M. R. (Maria 
Regina.) I handed the letters to Gregory, and 
watched him first touch the seal with a little oil, 
then cover it with a soft substance, which speedily 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 377 

hardened. “I do that for fear lest the sealing wax 
should break , or give way. In that case I could 
seal it afresh with this mould, and get as good an 
impression as the original one / 7 he explained. His 
next act was to pass a thin, sharp-edged blade 
betwixt the seal and the paper, detaching the 
former with such consumate adroitness that no 
mark remained either on seal or paper. ‘ ‘So far, 
so good , 77 he said. “Now I must beg that in 
reading and copying the letter, great care be taken 
not to hurt the seal. Then with a little hot wax 
we can easily re-seal it, so that the sharpest eye 
will be unable to detect any trace of its having been 
tampered with . 77 

The letter was a long one, the contents showing 
that the whole scheme had been expounded to her. 
It was in French, for Mary Stuart preferred that 
language to English, and was written by one of her 
secretaries in cipher. Philipps had deciphered so 
many of her letters that he was able to read it as 
fast as I could write from his dictation. 

The letter Q — as far as I can recall its con- 
tents at this distance of time — began with an eulo- 
gium of the zeal Babington displayed for the cause 
jof religion in general, and of the captive Queen in 
particular. The number and weight of the Catholic 
party was daily dwindling, and unless measures 
were soon taken by the Catholic potentates, it would 
be too late to prevent the extinction of the faith in 
England. The interest of religion were the deter- 
mining motive that induced her to sanction the 
scheme ; she was content to waive her own rights, 


x ) For the Queen of Scot’s letter vide Hosack, ii, p. 359. 


378 the wonderful flower of woxindon. 

except in so far as they were bound up in those 
interests. She imj>ressed upon her friends the im- 
portance of attempting nothing rashly, without due 
deliberation and careful arrangement. It was 
necessary to ascertain what forces on foot as well as 
on horse could be raised, and who were to be the 
captains appointed for them in every shire ; which 
towns, ports and havens could be depended upon 
to grant succour to auxiliaries from the Low Coun- 
tries, Spain and France ; what place might be 
thought fittest of landing the troops; what 
monies, armour, ammunition and provisions were 
at their disposal ; by what means did the 
six gentlemen intend to proceed in the work 
of liberation. All this must be well con- 
sidered ; she advised them to consult Mendoza, the 
Spanish ambassador in France, in whom she had 
the greatest confidence. Not until they had the 
certain promise of adequate succour from abroad, 
would she give her consent to the enterprise, other- 
wise the result would be as disastrous as that of 
the recent rising in the North. Another thing to 
be thought of was that she should be provided with 
a sufficiently strong escort, or conveyed to some 
fortress where she would be in safety, for were the 
Queen to get her again into her power, she would 
thrust her into a dungeon whence there would be no 
chance of escape, if she did not dispose of her in a 
yet more summary manner. And far more than 
her own evil fate, would she deplore, in case of 
failure, the misfortunes that would befall her faith- 
ful adherents. 

She then proceeded to name several Catholic 
noblemen, who might be enlisted in the project; 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 379 

adding a warning against traitors, who might even 
be found under the disguise of Catholic priests. 
Finally she said that in all probability at the end 
of the summer she would be removed to Dudley 
Castle ; they might find out when that would be, 
and arrange for her to make her escape then. Or 
if she remained at Chartley, one of three plans 
might be pursued. 1) If she were allowed to ride 
out on the lonely moor between Chartley and 
Stafford, a body of some 50 or 60 horsemen could 
carry her off, as her guard seldom exceeded 20 
men-at-arms. 2) It would be possible to set fire 
to the granary near the castle in the middle of the 
night, and in the confusion that ensued, it would 
not be difficult for the conspirators to penetrate 
into the castle and carry her out. 3) It might be 
so contrived, that one of the wagons which bring 
provisions to the castle in the early morning, should 
be overturned in passing through the gateway, so 
that the gates could not be closed, when a troop 
lying in ambush close by might enter and make 
themselves masters of the castle. 

Promising to reward Babington’s loyal devo- 
tion to the best of her ability, and commending 
him and his comrades to the protection of Almighty 
God, the captive Queen ended and signed this 
lengthy epistle, Maria R. 

Such, then, was the purport of the letter. 
My feelings as I transcribed it maybe imagined. It 
was a political intrigue on a large scale, every de- 
tail of which had been carefully considered, for a 
rising of the Catholic party in England, Scotland 
and Ireland, simultaneously with the landing of 


380 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Spanish or French forces on onr shores. In con- 
cert, and only in concert with this, was the project 
of her release from captivity to be entertained. 

It is true, that she had, as Walsingham anti- 
cipated, laid open “her very heart’ ’. But nowhere 
was, there a syllable that suggested the existence of 
any design on Elizabeth’s life ; nowhere a hint, 
which betrayed any suspicion of Savage’s proposal. 
On the contrary, the only mention that was made 
of her Majesty, clearly showed that the possi- 
bility of such a design had not entered into her 
calculations. 

Once more I carefully collated my copy with 
the original, making Philipps decipher it word by 
by word, in case a line, an expression might have 
been passed over. But no ; it was impossible to 
detect the slightest omission. 

I was at a loss now how to act, since the letter 
afforded no ground for proceedings against Mary 
Stuart. It showed that she participated in a con- 
spiracy to dethrone Elizabeth, but not to take her 
life. Should I arrest Windsor, as I was commis- 
sioned to do, if the contents of the letter were what 
my uncle expected, or would he make another 
attempt to cause her to incriminate herself'? As the 
result of my reflections, I determined to despatch 
Philipps and his comrades to London that same 
night, with the whole batch of letters, and one from 
me begging for further instructions without delay. 
This announcement was anything but welcome to 
the two men. Philipps coughed significantly, and 
said: “Excuse me, sir, but it appears you have 
not found in this letter all you wished to find. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 381 


Well, when anything is written in cipher like that, 
it is nothing wonderful, if, on closer examination, 
one remarks one or two words which one might 
have overlooked just at first . 77 He emphazised his 
words with a sly wink. 

“But we went through it line by line ,’ 7 I 
answered ; for I thought he could hardly have the 
audacity to propose to make interpolations. 

“So we did , 77 he rejoined with a disagreeable 
smile. “But sharp eyes — eyes sharpened with a 
purpose — can read between the lines, you have 
only got to tell me what you would like — 77 

“You rascal , 77 I exclaimed, “how can you 
venture to propose such a thing to me! Walsing- 
ham shall hear of that ! 77 

“Tell him, and welcome , 77 was the insolent 
answer. “One would have thought you had known 
enough of the secrets of statecraft, and learnt 
enough in your uncle’s school, not to make an out- 
cry about a simple little artifice. For what do you 
suppose the prudent Secretary of State keeps us in 
his pay, if not to make use of us ? 77 

“As spies, not as forgers,” I replied. “At any 
rate you shall not falsify this letter, on which the 
life of a Queen depends, if I can prevent it. I am 
heartily glad that I have a correct copy, and thus 
possess the means of detecting alterations and ex- 
posing falsifications. Mark that, Mr. Philipps ; 
and now give orders for your horsqs ; for in an 
hours’ time you must be in the saddle. Gifford 
shall follow in the morning . 7 7 

I leave it to my friend Windsor to relate wdiat 
occurred in the course of the next few days, before 
the return of my messengers from London. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

I ride to London on an errand of life and death, and meet 
with an almost incredible adventure on the Thames. 

Xo sooner had my betrothed with her little 
brother, their uncle, who had just escaped from 
prison, and Miss Cecil, been taken on board the 
Jeanette , than she weighed anchor, and put out to 
sea. Meanwhile our boatman rowed us across to 
the opposite side of the river, where we landed. 
It was with considerable difficulty that we got 
out of the hands of the coastguards, who, 
on the lookout for seminary priests and Jesuits, 
made sure that they had a prize in us. At length 
we succeeded in convincing them with the aid of a 
douceur , that we were not the persons they wanted, 
and we were allowed to go. Uncle Remy directed 
his course over Barking to Woxindon ; I proceeded 
through Bedford and Leicester to Burton, which 
I reached without any mishap. The morning 
after my arrival, I had rather a stormy encounter 
with St. Barbe, as he has already stated. I was 
astonished to hear him accuse me of having se- 
duced the affections of his lady-love, and at first 
thought he meant my Mary; afterwards I con- 
cluded that he referred to Miss Cecil, to whom I 
was not aware that he was engaged. I wrote a 
note to explain the misunderstanding, but he 
returned the billet unopened, and there the mat- 
ter rested. 

Nothing occurred for some time to break the 
monotony of the weeks that followed. To me 
( 382 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF VVOXINDON. 383 


they seemed to pass slowly, for I was daily ex- 
pecting to hear that the preliminary arrangements 
for our enterprise were completed. I, on my 
part, was ready, the forester’s cottage having been 
prepared to serve as a hiding place for the Queen 
of Scots in case of need. The end of July had 
come ; hot, sultry weather had succeeded the 
long period of rain, and the peasants were busied 
with gathering in the crops. The sun on the 
open moorland was scorching, so that I was fain 
to betake myself to a shady nook that I had 
discovered, beside a stream which meandering 
through the wood flowed into the neighbouring 
river Trent. 

Now it happened one day when I was angling 
for trout in this staid stream, I was fortunate 
enough to be the means of doing St. Barbe a good 
service. Whilst bathing in the Trent hard by, he 
got out of his depth, and was in sore peril of his 
life. Attracted to the spot by his cries, I arrived 
just in time to rescue him from drowning, at no 
slight risk to myself, and convey him to my rooms 
at the Mayflower . Thus we were brought together 
again, and an opportunity was afforded me of clear- 
ing up the misapprehension between us. Never- 
theless, he did not appear at his ease with me, and 
in spite of his gratitude for the service I had rend- 
ered him, there was still some coolness in his man- 
ner towards me. 

Three days subsequent to this adventure, when 
St. Barbe was quite recovered from the shock he 
had received, he came to my room at the inn 
towards evening, and sat talking with me over a 


384 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

tankard of ale. He seemed very restless, and 
every time a horse’s hoofs were heard on the road, 
he sprang up and went to the window. His con- 
versation all the while consisted of an eulogium of 
his uncle Walsingham’s astuteness, and the clever 
manner in which he had discovered and exposed 
various political plots. I began to suspect that 
his intention in dwelling on this subject was to give 
me a friendly hint, when our talk was broken short 
by the arrival of a horseman, dusty and travel- 
stained, who pulled up at the inn-door, and asked 
if St. Barbe were there. My companion instantly 
rose, and pale with excitement, rushed down stairs. 
He exchanged a few words with the rider, who 
then handed him a letter, which he drew from his 
breast-pocket. Hurriedly breaking the seal, St. 
Barbe ran his eye over the contents. They cannot 
have been lengthy, for almost immediately he fold- 
ed the epistle again, and thrust it into his pocket. 
In doing so, he glanced up at the window where I 
was standing. That one glance told me as plainly 
as words could have done, that our conspiracy was 
discovered. 

The messenger received orders to go on to the 
castle, and a few moments later St. Barbe re-entered 
my room, closing the door behind him carefully. I 
thought he had come to arrest me, and instinctively 
reached out my hand for my rapier, which hung on 
the wall, for I was resolved to sell my life dearly. 

“Let the sword alone, Windsor,” he said 
gravely. “You cannot think I should be so basely 
ungrateful, as to send the man who saved my life 
to the gallows. Besides, I should be all the more 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 385 

reluctant to do so, because I feel certain that you 
would never agree to any dishonourable design, 
whatever your confederates might propose. Yes, 
you have guessed right, Walsingham has long been 
cognizant of this conspiracy; he has intercepted the 
Scottish Queen’s last letter, and now gives me 
orders to arrest you quietly, and send you to Lon- 
don, as soon as your fellow conspirators are in his 
hands. Take care, therefore, to be well out of the 
way, when the soldiers surround the Mayfloiver 
to-night. If you ride hard and take the road 
through Loughborough and Spalding, you might 
reach the Wash to-morrow, and get out of the 
country before I can overtake you. If you want 
money, I will gladly lend you the amount you 
require.” 

Deeply touched by his kindness, I thanked him 
with all my heart. I had money, but I owed my 
life to him. 

“Yow we are quits,” he said, shaking my 
hand. “Farewell, we are not likely to see one 
another again on earth.” Thereupon he left the 
room quickly, and disappeared in the direction of 
the castle. 

It was some moments before I could collect my 
thoughts sufficiently to decide upon the course of 
action. In such cases my habit is to say a decade 
of the rosary, and I did so then. I had not got far 
before I saw my way clearly. Walsingham had not 
had my comrades arrested yet, because he wished 
to take them all at once, and that before two days 
are over, otherwise he would have had me sent to 
London in custody at once. There was still a 


386 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

possibility that I could warn them in time ; conse- 
quently it was not to the Wash, but to Lon- 
don, that I must ride as fast as my horse could 
carry me. 

A few things were quickly put together, and 
leaving on my table a sum sufficient to pay my 
host, I slipped down to the stables, saddled my 
mare, and led her out by a back way through the 
lanes into the country. There I mounted, and 
walked for a short distance at a foot’s pace. Not 
a soul met me. On reaching the nearest wood, I 
turned and looked once more at Chartley, and 
thought with a sigh of the unhappy prisoner within 
the castle walls. Then I put spurs to my horse, 
and rode forward on my errand of life and death. 

At nightfall the next day I reached London, 
and entered the city by the Highgate, through 
which a drove of bullocks were passing. Perhaps 
the guard took me for one of the cattle dealers, for 
I was covered with sweat and dust, and bestrode 
a nag that no gentleman would care to own. It 
was the only substitute I could obtain when my 
beautiful mare broke down, halfway between Strat- 
ford and Enfield. Wending my way through a 
labyrinth of alleys and ill-lighted streets, I reached 
Fleet street and the Strand. Our house by the 
Anchor Inn looked deserted ; passing it by I pro- 
ceeded to Babington’s residence at Temple Bar. 
The servant who appeared at my call informed me 
that his master and the other gentlemen were gone 
by Pooley’s invitation to an entertainment, he 
thought, at the Paris Garden . I asked if anything 
special had occurred? Yes, the man replied; 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 387 


Captain Fortescue, the officer who was staying with 
Mr. Babington, was arrested the day before yester- 
day. His master had been a good deal alarmed by 
this at first ; but all was quiet again now. 

I felt not a moment was to be lost. Fortescue, 
or rather Father John Ballard} in prison, and all 
our confederates invited by Pooley to a banquet, 
manifestly with the intention of arresting them one 
and all ! But I could not make my appearance at 

the Paris Garden as I then was, without arousing 
suspicion ; I therefore stopped at an inn near the 
Temple, put up my horse, and got myself into 
somewhat better trim. Taking a slip of paper, I 
wrote on it the words : Fly, jly immediately ; W. 
knows all; the last letter from Ch. is in his possession. 
You are surrounded by his emissaries ; fly for your 
life . No signature was needed, as Babington knew 
my handwriting. With this billet in my pocket 
I left the inn, after ordering supper to be ready 
on my return, and hastened in the direction of 
, the river. 

My way led past our house. I got over the 
hedge into the garden, and finding the back door 
ajar, I entered, shouting the names of Barbara and 
Tichbourne. At first there was no answer ; then 
a door upstairs was heard to open, and a voice 
called out, in harsh and grating tones: “Come 
up, sir; Mr. Tichbourne will be back directly. n 

The voice was a peculiar one, and I instantly 
recognized it as Topcliffe’s. Quick as thought I 
sped through the door and down to the river. Our 
boat lay as usual, moored at the foot of the steps ; 
I sprang into it and pushed off from the bank. 


388 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


Before I got far, I fancied myself pursued ; but I 
pushed my little craft between some others of a 
larger size, and, favoured bydhe darkness, reached 
the soutlrwest side in safety. 

The Paris Garden was a blaze of light ; the 
sound of musical instruments rang through the still 
night air. To elude observation, I avoided the 
principal entrance, and made my way in through a 
side gate. The curtains of the largest tent being 
drawn up to admit the cool air, I obtained a view 
of the interior, which was profusely decorated. 
There the gilded youth of London were disporting 
themselves, tricked out in gay habiliments of the 
latest French fashion. They stood and sat in 
groups at the tables, taking refreshments, playing 
cards, or chattering merrily as they watched the 
dancers, moving in stately measure to the sound of 
clarinet and fiddle. The festive scene, the rich 
dresses, the sparkling jewels and nodding plumes, 
the songs and laughter, were little in harmony with 
the care and anxiety that filled my heart. I sur- e 
veyed the guests for some time in vain ; at length 
at a distant table, laid apparently for a party of 
about twelve, I descried Babington, easily recog- 
nizable by his cloak of light blue velvet, trimmed 
with gold. Next to him sat a broad shouldered 
man, unknown to me ; on the opposite side of the 
table I saw Salisbury and some other acquaint- 
ances, not members of our association ; Pooley him- 
self was seated at the other end. Several places 
were empty, as if the full number of guests had not 
yet arrived. 

While I was considering how I could possibly 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 389 

convey my warning to my friends without delivering 
myself into the enemies’ hands, I saw my good Tich- 
bourne approaching the tent. I sprang forward, 
plucked him by the sleeve, and drew him into the 
shade of a tree. 

“You here, Windsor!” he exclaimed in aston- 
ishment, “I thought you were at Chartley!” 

“There is no time for talking,” I answered, 
under my breath. “We must all fly forthwith, 
without an instant’s delay. Ask no questions, 
only tell me how I can warn Babington and the 
others in there, who do not suspect they are being 
caught in a snare. And do not you go home ; Top- 
cliffe is waiting for you there!” 

“Is it so? ” he calmly replied. 6 ‘ I have thought 
for the last half hour I was being followed. I only 
wonder that those two fellows there have not already 
apprehended me.” 

“Their intention is to take us all prisoners 
at this banquet, to which that arch- traitor Pooley 
invited you. How are the others to be told ? I 
have a billet here for Babington, but I fear it will 
be of no use. It is impossible for him to read it, 
and warn the others, without the pursuivants ob- 
serving it, and cutting off their retreat. I have 
got our boat here close by ; if we could but reach 
that, we might ply our oars to some purpose! ” 

“We must make the attempt,” Tichbourne 
answered. “Give me the note, and do you take 
the boat to the landing-place just below. If I fail, 
at least you may be able to save yourself.” 

I wanted him to take the part he had assigned 
to me; but he said, and justly, that as he was 


390 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


watched, it would be useless for him to try and 
take the boat to the place agreed upon. So we 
shook hands and parted ; I contrived to get out of 
the garden unnoticed, and waited with the boat 
close to the landing place. 

Half- an -hour passed in feverish apprehension. 
Suddenly the music ceased and a confused shout 
arose, in which I fancied I could distinguish the 
cry, “Traitors! Stop the traitors! 7 ? My warning 
came too late, I said to myself. Yet I waited 
awhile, in the hope that perhaps one of my friends 
might escape, and make for the riverside. And so 
it was ; rapid footsteps were heard approaching ; a 
man ran up, with another close at his heels. In 
an instant I had the boat’s nose at the steps: Tich- 
bourne leaped into it; his pursuer, a sheriff’s 
officer, laid hold of the boat, shouting: “In the 
Queen’s name! surrender!” I thrust him back 
violently with one of the oars, he stumbled and fell 
into the water. 

“Where are the others?” I asked Tichbourne. 

“They have all gone off in one direction or 
another, where they thought they could find safety, ’ ’ 
he replied. Then, while with rapid strokes we 
pulled out into the middle of the river, he told m& 
in a few abrupt sentences, how Babington, when he 
read the note, made a sign to Salisbury, and, 
leaving his hat and cloak behind, j)assed out quickly 
through the nearest opening in the tent. Pooley, 
evidently expecting them to return, made no move- 
ment until he (Tichbourne) and Barnewell at- 
tempted, under some pretext, to quit the table. 
He then barred their way and gave his attendants 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 391 


the signal to arrest all the company. Tichbourne 
knocked Pooley down and with Donne and Travers 
made his escape, before the officers laid hands on 
*him. 

For a moment we rested on our oars, to discover 
whether we were pursued. There was no doubt of 
this; we heard shouting on either bank, and by 
the flickering light of the torches saw boats pulling 
off in pursuit. Away we rowed down the stream, 
in the hope that by getting among the ships lying 
at anchor below the bridge, we might evade our 
pursuers. But swiftly as our boat flew, they gained 
rapidly upon us, and the cry: “Stop the traitors ! 77 
sounded nearer and nearer every moment. We 
soon saw our case was desperate. Tichbourne 
drew in his oars. 

“We have no more chance , 77 he said. “May 
God have mercy on our souls! 77 

“One chance remains , 77 I replied’Throw off 
your cloak, friend; we will swim for our lives . 77 

“That may do for you; for me it would be 
certain death. Give my love to my young wife, 
my poor Alice ; I would fain have spared her this 
sorrow. Save yourself and pray for me, only be 
quick . 77 

I lingered a moment, urging my companion to 
jump into the river and cling to an oar to keep 
himself afloat; he refused, so, as our pursuers were 
almost alongside, I let myself over the side into 
the water. 

Fortunately for me, the officers did not see me, 
owing to the darkness, although when they boarded 
our skiff, I was not a boat 7 s length off. Finding 


392 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

only one where they had seen two men, they began 
to search for me, igniting their torches for this 
purpose. Carried down by the force of the current, 

I struck out vigorously to the left, and thus sue- . 
ceeded in passing under a different arch of the 
bridge to my pursuers, whose torches cast a lurid 
glare on each side of the boat. “There he goes,” 

I heard one exclaim ; and a long pole struck the 
water within a few feet of me. 

“No, it is only a log of wood,” another said. 

“Look out for the pier ahead!” cried a third. 

Providentially for me, their attention was di- 
verted to the management of their boat. But another 
peril now presented itself. The tide was ebbing 
fast, and the rush of the water through the arches 
of the bridge caused a dangerous eddy below the 
piers. Into this I was drawn, and carried under, 
no less than three times, my shoulder being also 
struck violently against the stonework of the bridge. 
To get free cost me a hard struggle, and when I 
regained the surface, and struck out into smoother 
water, it was only to encounter fresh dangers. 
Exactly in front of me was the barge of the river- 
guard, lighted up with cauldrons of burning pitch. 
I was perceived, so there was nothing to be done 
but to dive beneath the ves^l. I drew a deep 
breath, invoked the aid of the Blessed Virgin and 
plunged downwards : when I rose to the surface, 
the barge was a considerable distance behind, and 
the boat of my pursuers a good way off. My 
strength was however exhausted, I could only drift 
with the stream and in my helplessness was almost 
tempted to give myself up to the officers. But the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 393 

hangman and the gallows rose up before me, and I 
resolved to make one more effort to save myself. 

I was in the neighbourhood of St. Catharine’s 
wharf, and it occurred to me that I might reach 
Bill Bell’s house. Summoning all my powers, I 
managed with great difficulty, to swim across the 
Thames. Despair gave me strength, and guided 
by the light in the attic where the sick girl lay, I 
reached the old tenement, and clung to the wooden 
posts on which it was raised. But even then I was 
in an evil plight. To call for help would have 
brought the watchmen to the spot and led to my 
capture ; the only alternative was to hold on, no 
easy matter in my exhausted condition, until such 
time as I could attract the notice of the inhabitants 
of the house. Presently my situation became in- 
tolerable ; the time as it crept by, appeared to me 
an eternity; my senses began to fail, my head 
swam ; the rushing of the water deafened and be- 
wildered me. In fact, when the bell of St. Paul’s 
tolled midnight, I felt that before another hour had 
passed, I should have to appear before the judg- 
ment-seat of God. Suddenly, however, the strange 
singing in my ears changed into the regular splash 
of oars ; a strong hand laid hold of me, and a lantern 
flashed full into my face. 

“Mr. Windsor! For God’s sake, can it be 
you?” a voice exclaimed, and two sturdy arms 
lifted me into the boat. Who spoke to me, and 
what I answered, I knew not until afterwards, for I 
immediately lost consciousness. When I came to 
myself, I was lying in a dark, narrow, chamber, of 
which I could touch the walls on each side. My 
first thought .was that it was a prison cell. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

St. Barbe tells how he gave his uncle reason to be displeased 
with him. 

When I called out the guard of Chartley Castle 
at midnight, and went through the farce of sur- 
rounding the Mayflower , and demanding admission 
in the Queen’s name in order to arrest Mr. Edward 
Windsor on a charge of high treason, the individual 
in question had, naturally, long since made good 
his escape. I feigned astonishment, and announced 
my intention of sending horsemen in pursuit of 
him at daybreak. They were to go to the Wash, 
but a countryman told us that he had seen the 
doctor riding in an opposite direction, southwards 
on the road to London. The thought struck me at 
once: the foolish fellow, instead of providing for 
his own safety, has made an effort to save his 
confederates! This must not be permitted, for I 
considered it probable that one of them, Savage, 
at any rate, would attempt something desperate 
against the Queen, so as not to sacrifice his life to 
no purpose. So I took horse immediately, that I 
might acquaint my uncle as speedily as possible 
with what had occurred, although I had no doubt 
that in the meantime Babington and his associates 
would have been apprehended. 

All the next night I was in the saddle, the night 
which witnessed Windsor’s adventurous flight on 
the Thames. Towards mid-day I reached London, 
half dead with fatigue and smothered with dust. 
Without waiting to change my clothes or take any 
( 394 ) 


I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 395 

refreshment, I hastened to my uncle. His recep- 
tion of me was by no means encouraging. “So you 
have escorted .Windsor hither yourself,” he said. 
“It would have been better to have remained where 
you were, and awaited, further directions, because 
we shall have to make a domiciliary visit to Chartley 
one of these days, before that Stuart woman hears 
of the failure of the plot.” 

“You are mistaken, uncle,” I replied with 
some embarrassment, “I have not brought Windsor. 
He slipped through my fingers, and I am told he 
took the road to London.” 

Walsingham changed colour, and looked at me 
as I had never seen him look before. For several 
minutes he did not utter a word; at last, with 
forced composure he said: “How so, Windsor 
slipped through your fingers! We had better not 
ask how that happened, or I might have to ac- 
knowledge your inefficiency to Burghley and the 
Queen, not to mention worse consequences. Now 
I understand how it was that Babington and 
nearly all his fellow- conspirators escaped arrest 
yesterday evening. One of my agents told me 
Windsor came to the Paris Garden and warned his 
friends, but I swore at him for a fool. He was 
right, after all! And for this we have to thank 
your extraordinary sagacity ! 7 7 

“I will tell you the truth, uncle,” I answered. 
“Windsor had saved my life two or three days be- 
fore, at the risk of his own, and so I — 7 7 

Walsingham silenced me with a gesture. “I 
want to hear nothing more,” he said. “You have 
let Windsor escape; if that were all, I should not 


396 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

take it to heart. But now Babington and almost 
all the others have got away! I do not know how 
to tell the Queen of the conspiracy, on which as 
you know, depended the success of a political in- 
trigue of great importance. If I cannot succeed in 
capturing the ring-leaders, at least, it will be my 
ruin with the Queen. Her thirst for vengeance is 
unquenchable. In that respect she is a true 
daughter of Henry VIII. Besides, I have drawn 
considerably upon my own private means to bring 
this scheme to the hoped for issue. It cuts me to 
the heart that you, of all people, should be the one 
who is mainly, if not entirely, to blame for its mis- 
carriage. But that is always the result, if one 
allows one’s feelings to get the better of one’s judg- 
ment.” 

He dismissed me very coldly. I went to Poo- 
ley, and from him I heard the following details. 
As soon as the Queen’s letter was in Walsingliam’s 
hands, he gave Topcliffe instructions to keep a 
constant watch on the conspirators, but not to ap- 
prehend either of them, lest this should alarm 
the others. The arrest of Captain Fortescue, or 
rather the priest John Ballard, was through a mis- 
take on the part of the sheriff’s officer. Babington 
had, in consequence of it, gone to Walsingham, 
ostensibly to discover whether the arrest had any 
connection with the conspiracy, or whether it was 
because Fortescue’ s real calling had been found 
out. He hoped in reality, by this bold step to 
dissipate any suspicion Walsingham might enter- 
tain towards him, as he imagined he had done on a 
former occasion. But the astute Secretary of State 


*THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 397 

again deluded the young man entirely, so that he 
was completely unconscious of the snare that was 
closing him in its toils. He and his confederates 
accepted in all good faith Pooley’ s invitation to a 
banquet to be held in the Paris Garden . Guards 
were posted at the entrances, and on the arrival of 
the last of the guests, Tichbourne, Pooley was 
about to give the concerted signal for their arrest 
to his satellites, when Babington rose and hastily 
went out. As he left behind him his sword and 
cloak, Pooley imagined he was gone to order some 
particularly choice wine; but finding he did not 
return, he went after him. Just at that moment 
Tichbourne made a sign to his associates ; the 
guard attempted to seize him, but he gave them 
the slip, and got off, as did all the others except 
Savage who was very violent, and Tilney, who 
really had little to do with the plot, and certainly 
was not one of the ring leaders. Happily Tich- 
bourne was taken somewhat later in a boat on the 
river; another of the confederates who was seen 
with him in the boat, apparently had fallen into 
the river and been drowned. That man was pre- 
sumed to be Windsor. If so he had lost his life in 
a generous attempt to save his friend. 

The next day I was told that Topcliffe was 
about to search the dwelling of a boatman named 
Bell, in the neighbourhood of St. Catharine’s wharf. 
Bell himself was in the Tower, on suspicion of 
having aided in Mr. Bellamy’s escape from the 
Clink, but Topcliffe heard that Windsor was in the 
habit of going there frequently, and, thence he 
surmised that, if he had swam to shore, he might 


398 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON? 

have taken refuge there. I determined to make 
one of the party. 

“I believe it will be a bootless errand / 7 Top- 
eliffe declared. “For if the man jumped into the 
river above the bridge, ten chances to one he was 
sucked under by the current just below. But we 
must never lose the occasion of a domiciliary 
search, for if one does not find the prey one is 
chasing, one may perhaps light on some other 
bird. In this way I have got hold of many a Rom- 
ish priest, of whose existence I was not aware . 77 

The house we were approaching was such a 
rickety, tumble-down concern, leaning over the 
water to such an extent, that it was not without 
trepidation that I entered it. After we had 
knocked repeatedly, the door was opened to us 
by a young man, who seemed greatly alarmed, 
when Topcliffe expounded to him the penalties 
of harbouring traitors. He told us his father 
was in prison, and his sister lay at the point of 
death. This was no answer to Topcliffe 7 s ques- 
tions, but it accounted for the young fellow 7 s 
agitation. I begged my companion not to press 
him too hard, but to search the house as he 
proposed. Beginning at the basement, which 
swarmed with ferocious rats, so that no one dare 
enter without a light and a stout cudgel, every 
corner and cranny was duly examined. At length 
we mounted the ladder which led to the attics, 
but before we could enter the garret, the young 
man entreated us to desist from disturbing his 
sister 7 s last moments. Topcliffe, considering that 
only as a subterfuge, instantly wrenched open the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 399 


door of the apartment. I followed him into it, 
and there in fact on a pallet by the window lay 
a young girl in her last agony, painfully gasping 
for breath. When she perceived us, she made a 
movement, as if to forbid our approach ; “Away , 77 
she murmured, “leave me in peace. I believe all 
the teachings of the Catholic Church ; I hope for 
pardon through the merits of Christ and the in- 
tercession of Mary; I love God with my whole 
soul . 77 

Topcliffe changed colour ; he glanced around 
and his practised eye detected the possibility of 
space between the wall at the back of the bed and 
the sloping roof, which might serve as a lurking 
place. But, accustomed though he was to scenes 
of bloodshed and butchery, he could not endure 
to find himself in presence of the king of terrors 
in a lonely garret, and therefore relinquished to 
me the task of examining the chamber. While 
he waited outside, I spoke a few words to the 
dying girl. I observed that she x^ressed to her 
lips a small silver crucifix wdiich I was certain I 
had seen in Windsor’s possession, when at 
Chartley. Looking closely at the wall, I saw 
plainly that it was merely a partition, in fact the 
traces of a small door were discernible in the 
woodwork. There was little doubt that Windsor 
had escaped a watery grave, that he was there 
within a few feet of me. My pulses throbbed 
fast ; once more I had to decide whether I should 
deliver him up to justice or place myself in a 
most dangerous position. I had given him his 
life once — if he chose to risk it again, it was his 


400 the wonderful flower of woxindon. 


own responsibility. While I was thus debating 
within myself, the sight of the dying girl turned 
the scale in Windsor’s favour. I thought when 
my last hour came, I should not regret having 
shown mercy; nay, on this alone my hope of ob- 
taining mercy would depend. 

Young Bell, who stood beside me, watched 
with trembling anxiety my scrutiny of the parti- 
tion wall behind the bed. It also caused evident 
uneasiness to the dying girl ; she clasped her hands 
beseechingly, and endeavoured to speak. But the 
effort was too much for her ; her head sank back 
upon the pillow, and with the holy name of Jesus 
on her lips, she drew a deep breath and expired. 
Her brother fell on his knees by the bedside, sob- 
bing aloud ; I too knelt and breathed a silent 
prayer for the departing soul. Then I covered the 
I>allid countenance with a linen cloth, and led the 
weeping boy from the chamber. 

Having satisfied Topcliffe’s inquiries, I left the 
house with him. “Take my word for it, Windsor 
is at the bottom of the Thames , 7 7 he remarked as 
the door closed behind us. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 


St. Barbe relates how Babington and his fellow-conspirators 
were arrested, and with them the innocent inhabitants 
of Woxindon. 

It was not long before tidings were brought to 
us that Babington, on leaving the Paris Garden , 
had run to Lambeth, where he crossed the river, and 
had betaken himself to Westminster, to the lodg- # 
ings of his friend Gage. There a change of clothes 
was given him, and thence, with three others who 
joined him, he made his way under cover of night 
to St. John’s Wood. 

“They have gone to Woxindon!” I exclaimed. 
Topcliffe was of the same opinion. A troop of 
constables immediately prepared to start ; I was to 
accompany them, at my uncle’s wish, as he thought 
it was an opportunity for me to remove the un- 
favourable impression made by Windsor’s escape. 
Topcliffe took with him some well-trained blood- 
hounds. “This time,” he said, “I mean to revenge 
myself on these Bellamys, who have so often made 
a fool of me.” As he uttered these words, he 
looked almost as fierce as the dogs he held in 
leash. 

Half of the company had orders to guard the 
approaches to the manor-house ; the other half 
proceeded with us to the ruin, where the search 
was to begin. As we drew near, we saw in the 
twilight, the figures of a man and a woman walking 
along the path which led from the ruin to the 
house. On the dogs being let loose, they instantly 
( 401 ) 


402 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

rushed in that direction. The woman screamed 
with terror. “For God’s sake, Remy!” we heard 
her exclaim, “the devil’s hounds, that attacked 
Frith!” 

“These are no supernatural dogs ; be still, and 
they will not hurt you,” the man replied. 

“In the Queen’s name, hold!” cried Topcliffe, 
advancing out of the shade of the trees. “Surren- 
der, or these beasts shall tear you to pieces! ” 

“So it is you, Master Topcliffe ! Is this a fresh 
device on your part to frighten women and chil- 
dren, taking a quiet stroll in the evening! ” the man 
answered with the utmost composure. 

Topcliffe replied with an oath, any means were 
right for persons guilty of high treason, like him 
and his niece, who, it was well known, harboured 
and supported godless conspirators who plotted 
against the Queen’s sacred majesty. 

“It is false!” shrieked the woman, who clung 
to Mr. Bellamy’s arm. “It is false! Babington 
never did — ” 

Bellamy bade his niece hold her tongue. But 
the warning was too late. 

Topcliffe exclaimed in triumph : “Aha! Bab- 
ington! Hear how they betray their own secrets! 
Quite right, Babington is the one we have 
come to find, he and some others. Tell 
me this moment where these fine fellows are, 
for, as sure as my name is Topcliffe, if you do not 
deliver them up at once, you shall be cleared out 
of this Popish nest one and all, from the old witch 
down to this saucy maiden, with whom I have a 
long account to settle ! ’ ’ 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 403 

‘ ‘Have the goodness to call your dogs off first, 
they will drive my poor niece mad,” Mr. Bellamy 
replied. I supported this request, and the two 
brutes, growling and snarling, were again held in 
leash by their master, a worse brute than they. 

“Now,” he demanded, “make short work of 
it, and show me where Babington and his confed- 
erates are.” 

“What reason have you to think I know their 
hiding place?” Bellamy asked. 

“That tell-tale let it out,” answered Topcliffe. 

“How so?” Bellamy rejoined. “My niece only 
declared it was untrue that her husband had 
designs on the Queen’s life.” 

“What! is Babington her husband?” cried 
Topcliffe. “I congratulate you on the distinguished 
connection!” Then, with a coarse jest, he pro- 
duced the warrant of arrest, and once, more de- 
manded the instant surrender of the traitors and 
their leader. 

Bellamy shook his head, and declared he 
would rather die, than deliver to the hangman an 
unhappy fellow-creature, whom the cruel oppres- 
sion of the government had driven to some impru- 
dent act. Telling Topcliffe to search for Babing- 
ton, if he thought he was there, he moved off with 
his niece. 

But the pursuivant would not let them go. 
“Stop,” he cried, “if you stir a step, I will set the 
dogs on you. You are both my prisoners. Bab- 
ington’ s wife and cousin will tell us many a tale, 
when they are on the rack in the Tower. Handcuff 
them both ; find a pretty pair of bracelets for Miss 


404 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Bellamy, or rather Mistress Babington’s little 
wrists, and watch both prisoners well. Now let us 
go to the old tower yonder ; it will go hard with 
me if I do not unearth the whole batch, for what 
else would these two want wandering here at night- 
fall, if the dear husband and friends were not close 
by! So keep a sharp look-out ; let all have their 
weapons ready, and our dogs will soon scent out 
the foxes.” — 

Sentries were accordingly posted all round the 
old castle ; torches were kindled, and a great fire 
made of brush wood, so that the place was almost 
as light as day. The red flames lit up the ivy- 
covered walls and threw into relief the thick stems 
of the old trees surrounding it. 

“Now,” said Topcliffe, addressing his party, 

4 ‘not so much as a rat can leave these walls with- 
out being seen. Have your pistols ready; shoot 
every one down who tries to escape, but not 
otherwise, for it would be a pity to deprive the 
hangman of a job in disposing of these Popish 
traitors.” He then led the bloodhounds in leash 
around the principal ruin. They had not gone 
more than half-way, sniffing the ground, when 
they began to bay, and dragged violently at the 
cord, which held them in, leading us to the foot 
of the tower, where thick undergrowth and broken 
masonry filled up the moat. They stopped at a slab 
of stone in the wall, barking loudly and tearing the 
earth with their paws. 

Topcliffe bade two of his men hold the dogs 
off ; the stone was then removed, and an aperture 
disclosed, through which it was possible to crawl 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 405 


on one’s hands and feet. Into this Topcliffe shout- 
ed, calling upon Babington and any others who 
might be within, to come out at once to answer 
before the Privy Council on a charge of high 
treason, otherwise the bloodhounds should be let 
loose, who would rend them to pieces. 

For a few moments not a sound was heard in 
the vault to which the opening gave admittance. 
Then voices were heard in hasty consultation ; and 
someone said : “Let your dogs loose, Master Top- 
cliffe ; I will shoot them down one after another, 
and if I must fall, I shall hope to send you and 
some of your satellites, to appear with me before 
the tribunal of God, to answer for all the bloodshed 
and cruelty which you have shown to us harmless 
Catholics!” 

Topcliffe gnashed his teeth with rage. “All 
you cursed Papists together are not worth the life 
of one of my dogs,” he exclaimed. I will show 
you how we smoke such vermin out of their 
burrows. Pile up the brushwood before the hole, 
and set fire to it! ” 

Quickly a heap of dry sticks was raised before 
the opening ; in another moment it would have 
been ablaze, had I not begged for a brief respite, 
while I addressed the fugitives in the vault, ex- 
horting them in God’s name to submit to their fate, 
which after all might not be hopeless. At any rate, 
if they must die, they could prepare themselves to 
appear before God in a more Christian manner than 
was possible now. 

My words were not without effect. We heard 
them consulting together, then a voice responded : 


406 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“We surrender, but I hope we shall receive the 
treatment due to us as gentlemen, and that our 
friends will not be molested. ” 

I would have agreed to this, but Topcliffe in- 
terposed, saying he would hear of no conditions ; 
Babington and all his confederates must bear the 
consequences of their misdeeds. There was noth- 
ing to be done, but for the unfortunate conspirators 
to emerge from their place of concealment. Babing- 
ton came first ; he seemed greatly cast down and 
distressed on account of having brought this trouble 
on his friends, yet maintained a dignified demean- 
our. It was impossible not to feel sorry for the 
handsome young man, as he stood holding out his 
hands for the handcuffs to be put on his wrists. 
His hands were pinioned behind him, and fetters, 
fastened together with a short chain, were also put 
on his feet. The same was done in turn to each of 
the others : Barnewell, Donne, Gage and Charnock. 
One could not help commiserating these misguided 
young men, all of whom, with the exception of 
Charnock, a weather-beaten, gray bearded veteran, 
who had served with Savage under Parma, were in 
the first bloom of early manhood. They all met 
their fate with unfaltering courage ; not a word of 
complaint escaped their lips. 

Before quitting the spot, a close inspection was 
made of the vault, to ascertain that no confederates 
were remaining therein. Nothing was found save 
a basket of provisions and several bottles of wine, 
the basket, which bore the Bellamy’s name and 
armorial bearings, afforded fatal evidence that the 
inhabitants of Woxindon had supplied the outlaws 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 407 

with food, thus rendering themselves amenable to 
the law as accessories to the crime of high treason. 
Topcliffe, highly elated at the success of his re- 
searches, was in the best of humours ; he indulged 
in a series of low jests at the expense of his un- 
happy victims, which his men received with roars 
of laughter. 

I left the myrmidons of the law to their un- 
seemly mirth, and approached the little group of 
prisoners, amongst whom Bellamy and his niece 
were included. The former, a stout, elderly man, 
called by them Uncle Remy, was endeavouring, 
together with Babington, to soothe the young 
gentlewoman, who seemed in a paroxysm of des- 
pair. “It is all my fault, all my fault, ” she 
repeated. u My folly, my disobedience, has brought 
this misery on our house! I persuaded Babington 
to plan the release of the Queen of Scots, though 
Father Weston dissuaded him so strongly from the 
enterprise! Here, at the top of yonder tower, I 
promised him my hand, if he would carry it out. 
Here, at this very spot, I met him clandestinely, 
again and again, though poor grandmother strictly 
forbade it, as she had every right to do ! And now 
a just Providence has decreed that on this same 
spot he and I should be arrested. Would that we 
two were the only ones ! Alas ! a whole number 
share our lot, and my dear uncle amongst them — 
alas, alas, it is all my fault!” 

To hear her lament thus pitifully was enough 
to move a heart of stone. She would not listen to 
her husband, when he assured her that before he 
ever saw her, he had pledged himself to deliver 


408 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Mary Stuart from prison. “If I bad entreated you, 
you would have desisted from this wretched pro- 
ject,” she bewailed. “Nothing was irrevocably 
decided then. Instead of that, I urged you on; it 
is my fault, my fault ! ’ ’ 

Her uncle’s attempts to console her were 
equally inefficacious. “Nonsense, darling,” he 
said, “do not fret in this way. They will do noth- 
ing dreadful to me. What have I done? Only fed 
the hungry and given drink to the thirsty, and 
surely our friends, the Puritans, who make such a 
fuss about the Gospel, will not hang me for that. 
No, depend upon it, instead of putting a halter 
round my t neck for my charity, they will put a 
ribbon round my knee, and I shall be a Knight 
of the Garter in my old age!” 

Thus the kindly old man sought to divert 
his niece with a joke; but it was of no avail; 
she continued to sob convulsively, exclaiming 
again and again: “It was my fault, my fault!” 

Soon Topcliffe and his men, who had been 
feasting upon the provisions found in the hiding 
place, called upon us to proceed to the house. 
Our miserable work there was soon done. Mr. 
Bellamy’s brother, a goodnatured, harmless, but 
weak minded individual, met us at the gate, to 
learn the cause of the disturbance. He was im- 
mediately arrested. Topcliffe furthermore gave 
orders to rouse the old lady, who had already 
retired to rest, being somewhat indisposed, since 
he meant to take her to London in custody at 
once. Thereupon I protested against such un- 
warrantable and needless cruelty, but in vain ; 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 409 


the man told me he was master, and Walsingham 
had warned him not to heed my scruples and 
sensibilities. He intended to carry off the whole 
Woxindon brood to the Tower forthwith ; he 
could not journey down again from London for the 
sake of an old hag, who was just as bad as the rest. 
I offered to stay behind and escort the aged lady to 
London on the morrow; but Topcliffe only grew 
more irate, and declared if she were not downstairs 
and ready to start in a quarter of an hour, he would 
drag her out of bed with his own hands. So the old 
serving woman was sent up to dress her mistress 
and bring her down into the hall. 

Meanwhile Topcliffe called for wine for his 
men, and the hall soon re-echoed with uproarious 
songs and shouting. Topcliffe himself lighted a 
torch, and ordered Babington’s wife, who seemed 
quite spent with grief and terror, to conduct him, 
manacled as she was, over the house. I followed, 
in the hope of acting as her protector. First of all 
he demanded to be shown to a chamber at the top 
of the house, in which her father had died, she 
would know which he meant. On reaching it, he 
commenced a close examination of the walls, strik- 
ing them with a small hammer that he took from 
his pocket. The young lady meanwhile went and 
stood beneath a singular plant, which hung down 
from the principal beam of the ceiling. Wiping 
away her tears and ceasing her lamentations, she 
began to smile, and to count the branches of the 
little plant. On each of these hung a single ripe, 
red berry. 

“One, two, three, four, five,” she said. “This 


410 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

one for grandmother, these two for my two uncles, 
these two for Babington and me.” Then turning 
to me, she went on : “Good sir, you have been 
kind to us to-night ; do me the favour to break 
off this wonderful flower! See, I cannot reach it 
with my fettered hands. Grandmother took so 
much pleasure in this plant ; she thought it a por- 
tent of some great good ; and listen — when the first 
flower opened, father died ; when it was in full 
bloom, Mary was betrothed to Windsor and I to 
Anthony; when the first berry was ripe, my brother 
and sister had to fly from home ; and now that all 
the fruits are matured, and the plant is withering, 
we shall all be taken as prisoners to the Tower, and 
from thence to the gallows. O marvellous, fateful 
flower! Reach it down, sir, and may it bring you 
too good luck and a blessing! ” 

I confess that a shiver ran over me at the 
strangeness of the thing, as I complied with her 
request, and placed the plant in her hands. She 
began again : “One for me, one for thee, one for 
Remy and one for Barthy, and the large one for 
Granny. O the beautiful red berries ! Let us take 
these to them, sir — they will be so pleased !” 

It was now only too evident that the trouble had 
turned the poor girl’ s head. I was horrified ; it was a 
relief when Topcliffe, having discovered the secret 
cell that he was in search of, brought out from thence 
a gold chalice, and other things appertaining to the 
mass. He swore a round oath, designating them as 
implements of devilry and idolatry, while he con- 
signed this valuable booty to a capacious pocket. 
He then declared himself ready to leave Woxindon 
with his prisoners. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 411 

A heartrending scene was yet to be enacted, 
before our dei>arture. The venerable old gentle- 
woman had come down, and was sitting in the hall, 
feeble in body and broken in health, but courageous 
of heart, and resigned to the will of God. Patiently 
she waited, in a large armchair by the hearth, for 
the moment when she must bid, what she knew full 
well would be her last farewell, to her beloved 
home. When her unhappy granddaughter came in, 
and her restless eye and unnatural gaiety showed 
that her mind was deranged, a deep sigh escaped 
from the aged lady’s breast. “More troubles, O 
Lord ! ’ ’ she murmured, raising her eyes to heaven ; 
“yet not as I will, but as Thou wilt; give me 
strength to bear this cross.” But when Babing- 
ton’s wife coming up, exhibited the wonderful 
plant, assigning to each of the jufisoners one of the 
five sprigs with its blood-red berry, wishing them 
joy for the lucky plant, and finally asking her 
grandmother to fasten the plant to her bosom, since 
the fetters on her wrists prevented her from doing 
so, then tears filled the poor lady’s eyes, and fell 
fast on the red berries in her trembling fingers. 
Thereupon the mood of the wretched girl suddenly 
changed ; with a child’s unreason, from silly laugh- 
ter she fell to uncontrollable weeping ; a pitiful sight, 
the more so as all the retainers of the family took 
part in her woe. 

I was glad to hear Topcliffe give the signal to 
depart. The prisoners were mounted, their feet 
being chained together under the horses’ belly. In 
the same way the blessed Campion was taken to 
London, as one of the Bellamys remarked, the 
thought apparently affording him no small satis- 


412 TRE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

faction ; the two ladies were placed on some straw 
in a cart, and off we went at a quick pace by torch- 
light through the wood to London. 

Immediately upon Babin gton’s arrest, Topcliffe 
had despatched a messenger to apprise Walsing- 
ham of the fact. Hence on our arrival soon after 
midnight we found the greatest excitement prevail- 
ing in the city. With beat of drum the town criers 
had announced to the citizens that through the vig- 
ilance of the Secretary of State and the Council, a 
detestable conspiracy against the life of her gra- 
cious Majesty, against the religion and liberty of 
the country, had been discovered. The rumour, 
with endless exaggerations, spread like wildfire ; 
it may be imagined what sort of reception our 
cavalcade met with. The populace, waxed to fury, 
met the prisoners with shouts of execration ; while 
the ringing of bells and the lighting of bonfires an- 
nounced far and wide that the Queen and the evan- 
gelical cause were saved, and the traitors in custody. 

Thus the prisoners were conveyed to the 
Tower. I observed that the aged lady, who, 
by my request, had not been fettered, made the 
sign of the cross on herself and her grandchild 
as the iron gate of the postern closed behind them. 

Deeply moved by all that I had witnessed, I 
turned my horse’s head homewards. My uncle 
greeted me in good spirits. He had just heard 
that Salisbury and two others had been overtaken 
in Cheshire. All the ringleaders, excepting Wind- 
sor, were now in his hands. He expressed the 
wish that I should accompany him to Court on the 
morrow, to lay a formal report of all that had been 
done before the Queen. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


How St. Barbe obtained irrefutable proof of Mary Stuart’s 
innocence, and how his zeal on her behalf was rewarded. 

The next morning my uncle and I repaired 
betimes to Windsor, where the Court then was. 
Tidings of the discovery of a formidable conspiracy 
had already reached the Queen’s ears, and she was 
impatient to hear further particulars. We were 
therefore ushered without delay by the Black Rod 
into the royal presence. Elizabeth was in a state 
of great irritation, and inclined to blame her faithful 
Secretary of State for having kept her in ignorance 
of the existence of the plot. W alsingham expounded 
to her the whole history of Babington’s conspiracy : 
the design of the six young noblemen, to release the 
Queen of Scots from prison, and place her, with 
foreign succour, on the throne of England ; the 
proposal of Savage to assassinate her Majesty, a 
proposal known to and sanctioned by Babington 
and his associates ; the stratagem he had employed, 
watching the progress of the conspirators by intro- 
ducing two of his spies into their company and 
affording them the means of corresponding with 
the royal captive in such a manner, that every 
scrap of writing should pass through his hands, 
and he should thus be enabled to lay bare the root 
and source of the whole mischief, as he now did to 
her Majesty. 

The ladies and gentlemen in waiting, who, 
having withdrawn to a distance by Elizabeth’s 
command, had not heard Walsingham’s communi- 
( 413 ) 


414 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

cation, witnessed with astonishment the outburst 
of rage which it elicited. And when he went on to 
speak of Mary Stuart’s participation in the con- 
spiracy, reading to her, or placing in her hands, 
portions of the letters he had intercepted especially 
the long letter addressed to Babington, the Queen’s 
wrath was terrible to behold. u ’s death,” she 
exclaimed, u we hold the sword of justice, and it 
shall be wielded so as to strike terror to the heart 
of all our enemies. As for the conspirators them- 
selves, do you see, Walsingham, that whilst they 
are lodged in the Tower, every sort of torture be 
applied to them, until they make a full confession, 
and reveal the names of all their accomplices. 
These vipers shall be trodden down ; and after they 
have confessed, the manner in which they shall 
pass from life to death shall be a foretaste of the 
pleasures of hell. I will devise for them tortures 
to which the usual penalty — too lenient by half — 
which the law prescribes for traitors, shall be 
child’s play in comparison.” 

When Elizabeth’s fury had somewhat subsided, 
Walsingham proposed that, since sufficient evidence 
of Mary Stuart’s guilt could not be produced, the 
Queen should send a confidential messenger to Chart- 
ley, before the news of the miscarriage of the plot was 
known there, to seize the Queen of Scots’ papers. 
He felt no doubt that it would then be easy to 
prove her complicity in Savage’s murderous design ; 
in which case she must be condemned to death, and 
thus the life of the Queen, the security of the Prot- 
estant religion and the peace of the country would 
no longer be endangered, as it must needs be, so 
long as the breath was in that woman’s body. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOAVER OF WOXINDON. 415 

In this opinion — that the death of the Queen 
of Scots was necessary for the welfare of the Sover- 
eign and the State, all the courtiers who were 
present coincided, to Elizabeth’s evident gratifica- 
tion ; although she thought good to protest that 
nothing would induce her to sign the death-warrant 
of her rival. Still, she desired that her guilt should 
be made manifest to all Europe, and she therefore 
commissioned her private secretary, Sir William 
Wade, and myself, to repair at once to Chartley, 
and seize all the correspondence and papers of her 
royal sister. 

I should have been glad, before starting, to 
have asked my uncle a few questions. How could 
he have deduced from Mary Stuart’s letter that she 
was a party to the design against Elizabeth’s life ? 
A falsified copy must have been given to him, or 
had he other letters, of which I was unaware ? But 
he remained with the Queen, and before half an 
hour had elapsed, Wade and I were on our way to 
Chartley. 

We reached the castle on the next day but 
one, our road leading us through Aylesbury and 
Buckingham. Old Sir Amias smiled grimly, when 
we acquainted him with the instructions we had 
* received, and the preacher whom we found with 
him, invoked, in the Puritanical cant of the day, 
the aid of the Lord of Hosts on behalf of the royal 
Debora, to the confusion of all her Popish foes. 

Arrangements were forthwith made for the 
execution of our orders on the morrow. Paulet 
announced to his prisoner that on the representa- 
tions of her physician, permission was given for 


416 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 


her to take exercise on horseback ; and he in- 
vited her to ride with him the next morning to 
Tixall, the house of Sir Walter Aston, some few 
miles distant, to see a buck-hunt in the park. This 
was done lest, suspecting something, she should at 
the last moment destroy any document of impor- 
tance. 

The Queen of Scots was as joyous as a child when 
she was lifted on to her palpey in the castle court 
the next morning. When she saw me, she beckoned 
me to her side, and thanked me in the most gracious 
manner, for having, as she supposed, used my in- 
fluence with my uncle to obtain for her this allevi- 
ation of her captivity. A blush of shame rose to 
my cheek, and I really should have told her the 
true nature of my errand, had not her attention 
been diverted by the sound of the hunting-horns 
giving the signal to start. She only asked me if I 
knew what had become of Windsor, whom she had 
not seen for some time ; I answered that I did not ; 
and we set off, out at the gate and across the fields 
where the corn stood in sheaves, through wood and 
over mow, towards our destination. Everywhere 
the Queen was greeted by the peasantry with affec- 
tionate veneration. At one place a number of 
beggars had assembled, expecting to partake of her 
usual bounty; “Alas!” she said to them with a 
tearful smile, “I have nothing to give you; though 
a queen, I am as poor as our Lord Himself, the 
King of kings, when He was on earth.” 

As we approached Tixall Park, a party of 
horsemen, about 200 strong, were seen in a bend of 
the road near the gates. It was the sheriff of the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 417 


county, to whom we had the evening before, intim- 
ated the Queen’s pleasure that he should await us 
there. Mary Stuart attached a different significa- 
tion to the presence of the troopers. Her heart 
bounded at the sight of them, for she thought her 
friends had come for her deliverance. She was 
soon undeceived. On a sign from Sir Amias Paulet, 
the troop rode forward and surrounded us, the 
leader producing a royal warrant for the arrest of 
the two secretaries, Nau and Curie, who were taken 
into custody under their royal mistress’ eyes, 
while she was told she must remain for a time at 
Tixall. The prisoner naturally expressed the just 
indignation she felt at the mean, underhand trick 
that had been played her, of which she did not 
think Sir Amias, much less myself to be capable. 
This she did in such a dignified, queenly manner, 
that I was ready to sink into the ground with con- 
fusion. She wept, indeed, but less over her own 
lot than at the fate of her secretaries, and others 
who had sacrificed themselves fruitlessly for her 
sake. Moreover she took all present to witness 
that Nau and Curie had only followed her directions, 
and were in no wise responsible for the letters 
bearing her signature. She bade a kind farewell 
to these two, who later on, were to betray her, 
through human frailty, it is true, and under stress 
of torture. Then she accompanied the sheriff to 
Tixall without a murmur. 

Sir Amias and I returned immediately to Chart- 
ley, where the two secretaries were confined in 
separate cells, whilst we, with Wade and a lock- 
smith from Burton, proceeded to break open all 


418 THE WONDEKFUL FLOWEE OF WOXINDON. 

Mary Stuart’s cabinets and drawers. Every reposi- 
tory was ransacked , every letter and scrap of 
writing being placed under seal to be examined by 
the Privy Council. One of the first documents that 
I lighted upon was the draft, in French, in the 
Queen’s own handwriting, of her letter to Babin gton. 
I was as fully resolved as ever to prevent, as far 
as lay in my power, the falsification of the Queen’s 
letters which would be done, I strongly suspected, 
if not by my uncle, at least by his emissaries. I 
therefore read this draft all through with the 
greatest care ; the copy I had made in the tavern 
at Barton was, through frequent perusal, so im- 
pressed on my memory, that I had no difficulty in 
recognizing it to be word for word the same. Not 
a single syllable was there which implied complicity 
in the design on Elizabeth’s life. Wade, also, to 
whom I showed both the letter and my copy, 
declared the latter to be a fac simile of the former. 
I therefore sealed it up in a separate envelope, to 
be handed over to my uncle on my return to 
London, as a means of detecting any interpolations 
Philipps might make. The next day it was with a 
light heart that I took the road to London in the 
company of the two prisoners, for I was convinced 
that I carried with me indisputable proof of the 
Scottish Queen’s innocence. 

I found my uncle sitting in his cabinet, sunk 
in thought. Although it was the month of August, 
yet the weather was chilly, and a fire was burning 
brightly on the hearth. Boused from his reverie by 
my entrance, Walsingham made me a sign to sit 
down opposite to him. I did so, and, as succintly 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 419 

as possible, gave him an account of our proceedings. 
Placing upon the table before him a thick packet 
containing the documents that had been seized, I 
inquired what was to be done with the two secre- 
taries. 

“They are to be confined in separate apart- 
ments here in my house, to be strictly watched, 
and allowed to hold no communication whatever 
with one another,” he replied. “Otherwise every 
consideration is to be shown them. I hope by 
this means, to elicit from them the information I 
want, without having recourse to the rack. It is 
the old story : one catches more flies with a drop 
of honey than with a barrel of vinegar ! We have 
experienced the truth of that lately, nay, this very 
day in the Tower. Good Heavens ! how unmerci- 
fully Topcliffe tormented and tortured that man 
Ballard! For five consecutive hours he was hung 
up by rings attached to cords round his fingers, 
with two stones of a hundredweight each fastened 
to his feet, till the blood spurted from under his 
finger-nails, and he fell into one swoon after another. 
Topcliffe restored him to consciousness by holding 
a flaming torch under his armpits. The horrid 
sight haunts me still. And what was the result! 
Absolutely nothing upon the main point, with 
which we are concerned. The man acknowledged 
himself guilty of high treason, for seeking to de- 
throne Elizabeth and set the Queen of Scots at 
liberty; but he denied having plotted against her 
Majesty’s life, or that Mary Stuart had been a party 
to any such design. 

The others said just the same when examined 


420 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

under torture. It is astonishing what steadfastness 
Babington and his associates display. Some of 
them whmipered and cried for mercy, but not a 
word could be wrung from them to criminate that 
woman, or at any rate they retracted it immediately, 
when released from the rack . One of them Bellamy, 
a poor imbecile, whom it was really useless to 
arrest, broke a blood vessel and was removed in a 
dying state. His niece too, Babington’s youthful 
spouse, has gone out of her mind. Savage, a 
gloomy fanatic, confesses that it was his intention 
to have slain the Queen, but declares he was so- 
licited thereto by that wretch Gifford, who assured 
him, by way of incentive, that Hr. Allen and other 
divines approved the act as one of great merit, the 
the only means to reform the State. 1 ) He denies 
however most emphatically that the Scottish Queen 
knew of or sanctioned it. Thus they all deny what 
it is essential to me to assert: Mary Stuart’s com- 
plicity in the plot against Elizabeth’s life.” 

“It is my conviction that they all speak the 
truth on that point,” I rejoined. 

i ‘ What ! ’ ’ exclaimed my uncle angrily. ‘ ‘Have 
we not her letter and Babington’ s, both of which 
prove the contrary?” 

“It may be so if you have other letters of 
which I know nothing, in addition to the long 
letter of the 17th of July, and I conclude you have, 
from what I heard you say to the Queen on the 
terrace at Windsor. That letter of the 17th of July 
certainly contains nothing to incriminate the writer, ’ ’ 
I replied. 


!) Ibid. II. p. 383. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 421 


My uncle gave me a searching look. “I hope, 
Francis, ” he said after a moment’s pause, “that 
you do not mean to infer that I intended to mislead 
the Queen on that occasion.” 

“Certainly not willingly,” I replied, “but the 
wisest man may be deceived by a rogue. But I 
will not call in question the sagacity and knowledge 
of the world for which you enjoy so wide-spread a 
reputation. Doubtless you possess other docu- 
ments besides those to which I refer.” 

. “And supposing we had no other written evi- 
dence save that letter and Babington’s answer, 
what should you — assuming that you were the 
appointed counsel for the Queen of Scots — allege 
against it?” asked my uncle, in a half contemp- 
tuous, half angry manner. 

“In the character of counsel for the Queen of 
Scots, I should naturally first of all request to see 
the letters on which the whole charge against her 
rests.” 

My uncle rose, and unlocking a strong box, he 
took out two letters written in cipher, together 
with a deciphered transcript in Philipp’s hand. 
These letters he showed me, retaining them in his 
possession the whole time ; then he deposited them 
again in the place whence he took them, locked 
it, and put the key in his pocket. “One cannot be 
too careful in preserving documents of such im- 
portance,” he said. “But here are faithful copies, 
whose accuracy can be tested by a court of law by 
comparison with the originals. Now I must beg 
the learned counsel to note the passages in both 


422 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

letters which are marked with red ink, and tell me 
what can be said in his client’s defence.” x ) 

Walsingham threw himself back in his chair, 
and occupied himself apparently in watching the 
dancing flames and the expiring embers on the 
hearth. I applied my whole mind to the examina- 
tion of the letters. In Babington’s there were 
certainly two very unfortunate passages. After 
speaking of Parma’s meditated invasion, and of 
Mary’s release, he mentioned as a part of the 
scheme 6 the despatch of the usurping competitor .’ 
Another passage, also marked by my uncle, ran 
thus — the words are deeply impressed on my 
memory — 1 Myself , with ten gentlemen of quality , and 
a hundred followers , will undertake the deliverance of 
your person from the hands of your enemies; and for 
the despatch of the usurper , from obedience to whom , by 
the excommunication of her , we are made free , there be 
six noble gentlemen , all my private friends , who for the 
zeal zhey bear the Catholic cause and your majesty’s 
service , will undertake the tragical execution 

On reading this, I was compelled to own, that 
if this letter was, indeed, as was alleged, genuine, 
Mary Stuart must at any rate have been privy to 
the murderous design. I then took up the letter 
which she had written in answ r er. If this copy, 
placed by Walsingham in my hands, were as ac- 
curate as he considered it, she not only knew of it, 
but approved of and sanctioned it. In Philipp’s 
transcript mention was frequently made of ‘the 

1 ) For the proof of the manifest falsification of the 
letters on the strength of which Mary Stuart was con- 
demned cf. Hosack 2, p. B48 — 372. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 423 


undertaking of the six noble gentlemen. ’ For in- 
stance, one of the questions she put to the con- 
spirators was. ‘By what means do the six gentlemen 
deliberate to proceed V. Further on there was a 
request that the six gentlemen would not set to 
work until the affairs were prepared, and forces in 
readiness within and without the realm ; finally a 
long passage to the intent that it would be well for 
the said gentlemen to have always at Court sundry 
scoutmen provided with good horses, to bring 
tidings with all diligence to Chartley as soon as the 
design be executed, that she might be aj>prised of 
it and set free, before her keeper should have 
warning of the existence of the said designment. 
And the reason given for this request was, that 
there could be no certain day apiminted when the 
plan could be carried out at Court, and that it 
was imperative that she should be set at liberty 
immediately after its accomplishment. Wherefore 
two or three couriers should be despatched to 
Chartley by divers ways, at the same time it would 
be needful to endeavour to cut off the ordinary 
post, etc. 

It was quite possible that the more general 
mention of a design on the part of the six gentlemen 
might have escaped me when the deciphered copy 
was made at Burton. But this latter passage was 
not of a nature or of a length to be overlooked ; it 
almost filled a whole page in Philipp’s transcript. 
Nor was a word of it to be found in the original 
draft. There could be no doubt that the whole 
passage was a forgery. And when I compared it 
with the context, I wondered that my uncle’s keen 


424 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

eye had not immediately detected so clumsy a 
deceit. His eager desire, on political ground, to 
connect Mary Stuart with this plot, must have led 
him to heed nothing but the passages marked, I 
said to myself. But the suspicion forced itself 
upon me, was he not aware that he was making 
use of a forgery'? May it not even have been by his 
orders that the interpolation was made! I know 
that politicians were often unscrupulous as to the 
means they employed, but I did not like to believe 
that my uncle would resort to such unworthy ex- 
pedients. Still the whole matter must be expounded 
to him ; no agreeable task at the best, for no man 
would like the fabric he has carefully constructed, 
and on which so much depended, to be overthrown 
like a house of cards. However there was no help 
for it, since the honour and the life of an innocent 
person were at stake. 

“You have been a long time deliberating,” 
Walsingham said at length. “What is the verdict 1 ? 
Not very favourable to her Majesty of Scotland, to 
judge by the funereal countenance of her counsel.” 

“It is decidedly favourable for Mary Stuart,” 
I replied. 

Walsingham leant back in his chair with forced 
composure. “You surprise me,” he said. “I am 
anxious to hear what can be urged in defence of 
the accused; forewarned, forearmed, you know.” 

“To me it appears most simple and obvious. 
I can prove the falsification of both letters,” I 
answered. 

My uncle turned pale, but otherwise betrayed 
no emotion. Looking sharply at me, he said: “I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 425 


must either be deceived or a deceiver. Neither 
opinion is flattering. But let me hear your proofs. ’ ’ 

“I believe I can give direct and conclusive 
proof that the Queen’s letter has been falsified ; in 
regard to Babington’s, the evidence is only pre- 
sumptive. But if the Queen’s letter is not genuine, 
the same will probably be true of his.” 

“It may possibly be so,” Walsingham re- 
marked. “This 1 concede, that finding the one 
spurious greatly weakens the evidence of the other. 
But now give me your proofs that the Queen’s 
letter is falsified, and mind, the proofs must be 
incontestable ! ’ ’ 

“The evidence is both internal and external,” 
I resumed. “This long passage that you have 
marked is the one on which every thing turns, and 
it is plainly an interpolation.” 

My uncle interrupted me. “There are other 
passages marked, which taken in cSnnection with 
Babington’s letter, clearly prove Mary Stuart’s 
guilt.” 

“Undoubtedly,” I replied, “supposing Babing- 
ton’s letter to be genuine, but if it is spurious, as I 
believe I can prove it to be, then the expression, 
the design of the six gentlemen has no special signifi- 
cance. It would simply mean the deliverance of 
the captive. I do not hesitate to affirm that this 
long passage is a forgery, for it is directly at vari- 
ance with another part of the letter. Listen to this. ’ ’ 
I then read aloud the portion of the prisoner’s letter 
wherein she gives strict directions that immediately 
after the accomplishment of the design upon Eliza- 
beth’s life, couriers should be sent to Chartley, and 


426 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

then, but not until then, her release be attempted. 
This I begged him to compare with the following 
words, which occurred somewhat later : L If you take 
me out of this place, he well assured to set me in the 
midst of a good army , or some very good strength , where 
I may safely stay until the assembling of your forces , 
and of the said foreign succours . It were sufficient 
cause given to the Queen , in catching me again , to 
enclose me in some hold , out of which I should never 
escape , if she did use me no worse , and to pursue with 
all extremity those that assisted me, which would grieve 
me more than all the unhappiness might fall upon my- 
self d “How,” I asked, “are we to reconcile this 
passage with the one which precedes it! Mary 
directs that, on the successful accomplishment of 
the design, the news of her rival’s death is to be the 
signal for her release from prison. A few lines 
further on, she commands that precautions be taken, 
lest the Queen* — who has been assassinated, mark 
you — should Qatch her again, and treat her worse 
than before! If this is not a contradiction, I never 
saw one ; one of the two passages is distinctly a 
forgery. Strike out the one that is marked, and it 
will appear perfectly natural that Mary Stuart 
should be anxious to be protected from the Queen’s 
anger until the landing of Parma’s troops.” 

Walsingham had listened to me with growing 
uneasiness. He could not contest the force of my 
arguments, so he tried to set them aside with a 
sneer. 

“Well done, my lord Advocate!” he said. 
“You would make your fortune at the bar! Only 
unfortunately, as the letter is before us, inspection 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 427 


of the original will show that so long a paragraph 
could not possibly have been interpolated — 77 

“Not unless it was re-written from beginning 
to end by the forger , 7 7 I remarked. 

“Do not interrupt me , 77 Walsingham said, 
angrily knitting his brows. “Moreover, an 
apparent contradiction in a woman 7 s letter by no 
means proves it to be a forgery. Some word is 
probably omitted, overlooked by the decipherer, 
which would entirely alter the sense. Besides, 
logic is not a woman’s strong point . 77 

“The letter before us bears every mark of fore- 
thought and deliberation. But listen to my other 
proof. Amongst the papers belonging to Mary 
Stuart that were seized, there was, happily for her, 
a draft in her own handwriting of that very letter 
to Babington. There is not a word of all that in it. 
I brought the letter in a separate envelope. Here 
it is . 77 I detached the precious document from the 
packet, and handed it to my uncle. 

He took it eagerly. I noticed that his hand 
shook, and his countenance fell. 

“Has any one except Wade seen this draft *? 77 
he inquired. 

“Only Queen Mary’s secretaries , 77 I replied. 

“Nau and Curie will not give me much trouble, 
and Wade is one of Mary’s bitterest enemies,” my 
uncle rejoined. “Besides, after all, a rough draft 
proves nothing; it may easily have been altered 
afterwards.” 

“I know that this was not,” I exclaimed 
triumphantly. “Here is deciphered the copy of 
the letter, which I wrote from Philipps dictation at 


428 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

the Green Dragon; it is word for word the same. 
Now is the falsification proved or no ? ’ 7 Thereupon 
I gave the copy to my uncle, that he might collate 
it with the other. He ran his eye over them, com- 
plimented me sarcastically on my skill in the 
defence, and remarked it was well that the English 
law allowed no counsel for the prisoner in a charge 
of high treason, or these documents in the hands 
of her lawyers, might give us some trouble. Then 
he enjoined on me, for the good of the State, to 
preserve strict silence on the subject. 

This speech revealed to me that Walsingham 
was a party to this forgery, that he might even 
have given orders for it, and intended to make use 
of it for the condemnation of an innocent person. 

I broke forth in indignant expostulations against 
such flagrant injustice, and declared my determina- 
tion to proclaim the truth at whatever cost to 
myself. 

“Fool that you are!” exclaimed Walsingham, 
unable to control his anger. “Would you betray * 
your uncle, and put him to public shame, and ruin 
your country, which cannot be at peace while that 
woman lives % See here, I will make short work 
of your incontrovertible proofs.” So saying he 
crushed the papers in his hand, and tossed them 
in the fire. 

I will not recall our mutual recriminations. 
They ended in my being placed in custody in my 
uncle’s house, to consider whether, within forty- 
eight hours, I would swear to p reserve secrecy, and 
beg pardon on my knees, or be consigned to the 
Tower for aiding and abetting Windsor’s escape. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 429 


At the end of that time Walsingham came to 
me, and asked if I had come to a better mind, and 
would comply with his wishes. I told him my 
resolution was unchanged, and I begged him not to 
stain his conscience with the blood of an innocent 
person. He would not listen to a word, but said : 
“A truce to your entreaties! However, before I 
send you to the Tower — whence, be it remembered, 
death will be your only release — you shall have a 
trial of what imprisonment on bread and water is, 
here in this house. I will give you a month’s pro- 
bation ; if you still presist in your obstinacy, in 
the middle of September you shall be transferred to 
a living grave. 7 7 I answered nothing and he left me. 



CHAPTEE XXXIY. 


My wife relates her adventures on the flight from England, 
and what befell her on her arrival in Paris. 

The time has now come, as my husband 
reminds me, to let St. Barbe rest, while I continue 
our narrative, and acquaint the gentle reader with 
the incidents connected with my flight from Eng* 
land. 

I must return to that July night A. D. 1586, 
when, standing on the deck of the Jeanette , beside 
my brother Frith, Miss Cecil, and my Uncle Rob- 
ert, with a heavy heart I watched the skiff that had 
brought us thither disappear in the darkness. Xo 
sooner had we got on board the brig than she 
weighed anchor, and with all sails set, made for the 
mouth of the Thames. We had not been more 
than half an hour under way, when three shots 
sounded from Gravesend ; they were repeated from 
the forts we had just passed. 

“Aha!” said our captain, “that was meant for 
us! We did not leave Gravesend a minute too 
soon ; had we been any later the guns there would 
have obliged us to stop. Xews must have come 
from London about the contraband goods I have 
on board, and I shall not be surprised if they send 
one of their ships after us. They are welcome to 
do it ; the Jeanette can run a race with any English 
craft, so long as they do not put out from Sheerness 
to take us. All lights must be extinguished, and 
a sharp lookout kept. The ladies had better go 
down below. 77 


( 430 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 431 


Miss Cecil and I betook ourselves to the little 
cabin ; Uncle Robert and Frith remained on deck, 
doing what they could to assist the crew. It was 
an anxious time for us; for jmesently we knew 
from the rolling of the vessel that we had got out 
of fresh water, and were about to encounter the 
dangers of a passage across the Channel. From 
time to time Frith came down and told us what 
was taking place. Two vessels seemed to be pur- 
suing us, he said ; the lights on their bows and on 
the masts were vfsible, but our skipper was in 
good spirits. At day-break we passed Margate. 
The harbour master must have received orders to 
stop us, for a vessel was cruising exactly in the 
track which ships from London generally took. 

Our position had become rather critical. There 
were two ships following us, and the one from Mar- 
gate, which was just in our course, signalled to us 
to lay to. Our captain swore a nautical oath, and 
said one would think he had the Queen of Scots 
herself on board! But before he gave in, he would 
lead the English a jolly chase ; so he gave orders to 
hoist all sail and steer to the north-east. 

When the cruiser from Margate perceived that 
no heed was paid to her signals, we saw a flash 
and a cloud of white smoke issue from one of her 
port-holes, and a cannon ball struck the water near 
the bow of the Jeanette . But a stiff west wind 
filled our shrouds ; the vessel lay over on her side 
almost as if she would capsize, as she ploughed 
through the foaming waves, which dashed over the 
deck, inundating us with salt spray. Shot after 
shot came after us, but only one hit, and that did 


432 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

little damage, merely tearing a hole in the main- 
stay sail, as I think the sailors called it. For an 
hour or so we were in great jeopardy, for the three 
shix>s pursued us with all their canvass furled ; but 
we outran them, and ere long they fell behind and 
were gradually lost to sight. 

We thanked the Blessed Mother of God, and 
our brave skipper too, when, all danger past, we 
landed safe and sound at Dunkirk. Miss Cecil 
gave him a valuable ring, in consideration of which 
he procured us a suitable means of conveyance to 
Paris, where we were next to try our fortunes. 

The welcome we received was of the warmest 
nature, when, on our arrival in the French metropo- 
lis, we sought out the Jesuit College, and delivered 
the letter wherewith Father Weston had furnished 
us. The name of Woxindon was familiar to the 
Fathers, as that of a house where many of their 
brethren in religion had found a refuge. And 
when we spoke to them of Edmund Campion, of 
Persons, and other venerated Confessors who had 
been our guests, they said repeatedly, how rejoiced 
they were to have an opportunity of returning in 
some slight degree the kindness we had shown to 
their brethren. They were also delighted to hear 
that the young lady with us was a daughter of Lord 
Burghley, the inveterate enemy of the Jesuits, and 
indeed, of all Catholics, and that by God’s grace, 
she had had the courage to forsake home and 
country for the sake of the true faith. The Father 
Provincial, a venerable, white-haired old man, as 
well as the Father Eector, lifted up their hands in 
joyful wonder, and would not listen to a word Miss 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON, 433 


Cecil said, when with tears she entreated them to 
forgive the part her father had acted, in shedding 
the blood of Campion and other martyrs. 

Meanwhile the lay-brothers had prepared a 
repast for us in one of the parlours, to which my 
little brother Frith did great credit, for he was in 
high spirits, the Rector having consented to take 
him into the College. And w hen, on the sound of 
a bell, merry voices were heard in the courtyard 
below, and Frith, looking out of the window, saw 
a number of boys playing at football, nothing would 
do but that he must join at once his future com- 
rades. To this the Fathers had no objection ; the 
Rector went down to introduce him to his play- 
fellows, and the boy was in such a hurry that he 
would hardly wait to bid us good-bye. 

Thus for the present Frith was provided for. 
About uncle Robert we had no cause for anxiety. 
He intended, after he had seen us safely housed in 
Paris, to take service under Parma in the Nether- 
lands, for he was still in the prime of life, and well 
trained in the use of arms. But what was to 
become of us two girls! we timidly asked the 
Fathers. There was no difficulty about that, they 
said; a messenger had already been sent to the 
Benedictine nuns in Montmartre, who would will- 
ingly take us in. Thereupon I thought myself 
obliged to say that I had no wish to become a nun; 
on the contrary, I was engaged to be married. I 
could not help colouring as I said that ; but the 
Father Provincial answered smilingly he would not 
compel, or even persuade us to embrace the religious 
life, for to enter a convent without a vocation was 


434 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

to ensure misery for oneself and for others. We 
were only to be the nun’s guests for two or three 
days, until a home could be found for us in the 
house of some persons of quality. While we were 
still at table, a note of kind invitation came from 
the lady-abbess for the English ladies, and we 
immediately proceeded to the Convent, after taking 
grateful leave of the good Fathers. Uncle Bobert 
remained behind, as he was to stay under their 
hospitable roof for a few days. 

At the door of the Convent we were met by 
the Abbess, an aged and venerable lady, who wel- 
comed us with motherly kindness, and knew how 
to set us at our ease at once. Taking us by the 
hand, she conducted us through the long, cool 
corridors into the garden, bright w r ith summer 
flowers, and shaded by spreading yew trees. At 
the entrance there stood a time-honoured image of 
the Mother of God, holding the Divine Child in her 
arms, looking down graciously upon us from a 
bosquet of elegant foliage and fragrant lilies. In 
passing we paused to kneel for a moment, and 
utter the prayer the Church places on her child- 
ren’s lips: 

Nos cum prole pia , Benedicat Virgo Maria . 

The Abbess led us to an arbour, where the 
whole community w r ere assembled at recreation, 
and introduced us to them, saying: “See, my 
children, God has sent us these young ladies from 
England, who for love of the Holy Church have left 
father and mother, brother and sister, house and 
home ; w r hat will their reward be ? Tell us, Sister 
Hedwig, our youngest novice!” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 435 


At these words a youthful nun, about the age 
of my Sister Anne, rose up and looking at us with 
smiling blue eyes, replfed: “Our Lord Himself 
tells us, Eeverend Mother: a hundredfold and 
eternal life.” 

‘ c True, Sister, centuplum et vitam eternam ! N ow 

let us do our part to prove the truth of the words.” 
Then she bade the lay- sister bring fruit and cakes, 
the nuns laid their needlework aside, all tongues 
were unloosed, and we chatted merrily until a 
graver topic was introduced, and with deep interest 
and sympathy our recital of the woes of Catholics 
in England was listened to by all present. 

At length the bell sounded for Yespers, and 
the Sisters betook themselves to the choir. We 
followed them into the solemn stillness of the 
sanctuary, dimly lighted by painted windows. 
Fixing my eyes on the tabernacle, I fervently 
thanked our hidden God for the protection afforded 
us on our flight, as well as for the unexpected wel- 
come we had met with amongst those who were 
dedicated to Him. Then the organ began, and its 
swelling notes filled the church, while the psalms 
and antiphons of the day, sung in choir, sounded 
to me like the song of angels. A sense of repose 
and peace came over me ; I had never felt so far 
from earth and so near Heaven. And when, the 
next morning, I assisted for the first time in my life 
at High Mass, and witnessed the impressive cere- 
monial the Church appoints for the celebration of 
the unbloody sacrifice of the New Testament, as 
the clouds of incense ascended at the sanctus , tears 
of demotion ran down my cheeks, and heavenly 


436 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

consolation filled my heart. Miss Cecil, who knelt 
beside me, was not le^ affected than myself. 
Afterwards she said to me: “May God forgive 
those deluded ones who stigmatize as idolatrous the 
elevating and beautiful ritual of the Catholic 
Church! And those, who in the name of liberty of 
conscience, destroy the monasteries, and drag their 
inmates out of these dwellings of peace ! Oh how 
happy should I count myself, if I could spend my 
whole life before the altar of the Lord! How 
different to attendance at the Court of Elizabeth, in 
which my early youth was past!” 

After a few days passed in tranquillity and 
peace, we heard that the Jesuit Fathers had found 
a suitable domicile for us. Mendoza, the Spanish 
ambassador, offered to receive us into his house 
as companions for his wife. By this act he took a 
truly Christian revenge on Lord Burghley, who 
two years previously had caused him to be igno- 
miniously dismissed from his post of ambassador 
in England. Miss Cecil would have preferred to 
remain at Montmartre, since she had never felt so 
happy in her life as she did there. In fact, she 
begged the Abbess to admit her as a postulant, but 
the old lady was too wise to allow her to take such 
a step in the first flush of youthful fervour. “If in 
a year’s time you are still of the same mind, and you 
feel that only within these quiet walls will your 
heart find rest,” she said to her, “then come, my 
child, and you shall try your vocation with us.” 
I too, was so sorry to bid the nuns good-bye, that 
I almost regretted having pledged my troth to 
Windsor. It was with a heavy heart that we 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 437 

followed our new guardian to his palace on the 
banks of the Seine. On the same day my uncle 
Eobert left Paris to join the army at Brussels. 

Nothing of importance occurred during several 
weeks. Count Mendoza and his wife treated us 
like their own daughters, but I felt uneasy at 
receiving no tidings from my country. I had 
written from the Convent to Windsor, no reply 
reached me, however ; and from my host I could 
learn nothing definite as to the progress of affairs 
in England. 

At length the glorious Feast of the Assump- 
tion came. We received Holy Communion at an 
early hour in the private chapel of the embassy, 
and afterwards accompanied the Count and Countess 
to solemn High Mass at Notre Dame, where the 
Archbishop officiated with great pomp and cere- 
mony. But neither the soul- stirring music, nor 
the other accessories of Christian worship availed 
that morning to inspire my heart with festive joy. 
It was filled with sad forebodings, and I- felt 
impelled again and again, to invoke for my loved 
ones in England our Lady’s powerful protection. 

On our return to the embassy, a courier was 
waiting with despatches from England. After 
what appeared to me a very long time, I was sum- 
moned to Mendoza’ s cabinet, whither he had with- 
drawn to peruse his letters. I had a presentiment 
of misfortune, and my fears were confirmed at the 
sight of his grave countenance. 

“The messegner has brought bad news from 
England,” I cried. “The scheme for releasing 
Mary Stuart has failed — tell me all, Count ; the 
worst cannot be as bad as this painful suspense.” 


438 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

“It was to tell you all that I- sent for you, Miss 
Bellamy , 77 he answered. “It is true, the plan for 
setting free the Queen of Scots has again been un- 
successful. This time, I fear, the consequences for 
her will be fatal. The greater number of the con- 
spirators have been arrested . 7 7 

“Windsor? and Babington V 7 I inquired 
eagerly. 

“Babington, but not Windsor , 77 Mendoza 
replied. “But what touches you most nearly is, 
that, through Babington having unfortunately been 
taken at Woxindon, all your relatives have been 
thrown into prison. Ohateauneuf speaks in his 
letter of two gentlemen and two gentlewomen . 77 

“What ! 77 I exclaimed, bursting into tears, 
“the barbarians have had the cruelty to take my 
dear old grandmother, and poor uncle Barty, who 
is as simple as a child, to the Tower! I must go to 
them, I must go to London immediately, to see 
what can be done for them. There is not a soul to 
succour them. Our cousin Page is a miserable 
apostate, who only wants to get our estate for him- 
self. Help me, for mercy 7 s sake, to get back to 
London! You know what our prisons are, you 
know by the Queen 7 s command, the prisoners are 
allowed nothing but bread and water, and rotten 
straw. Every alleviation must be paid for heavily 
by the captives or their friends. Alas ! my poor 
grandmother, and my sister too, whose health is 
much shaken, will perish miserably in the course 
of a few weeks, if I cannot hasten to their 
assistance . 77 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 439 

The ambassador listened to me patiently. 
Then he said: “If you are recognized, you will 
only share their fate. Believe me, Lord Burghley 
will never forgive you for having facilitated his 
daughter’s flight. A better plan would be to write 
to Chateauneuf, and ask him to send some one to 
look after the prisoners.” 

“No, that will never do! If needs be, I would 
rather die with them, than remain here without 
stirring a hand to help them. I simply could not 
endure it, and if I have to beg my way, to London 
I must go. How could one of Chateauneuf’ s 
agents care proimrly for my unhappy friends f ” 

Mendoza was touched; but he said nothing 
must be done in a hurry, we must think the matter 
over. He also desired me to ask the advice of my 
confessor ; if he approved of my resolution, and I 
still adhered to it on the morrow, he would pro- 
vide me with all that I needed. Accordingly I 
betook myself to the Jesuit College, and submitted 
my project to the Father Provincial for his decision. 
He sanctioned it fully, and gave me his blessing, 
only he asked me to say nothing to Frith, of whose 
behaviour he spoke with great praise, about my 
departure. He would tell him of it in due time, 
and bid him pray for the success of my under- 
taking. 

The next morning Mendoza gave his consent, 
and supplied me with good advice and the necessary 
funds, in cash and bills of exchange on a London 
banker. Before nightfall I left Paris, in the suite 
of a gentleman of rank, who with his wife, was # 
journeying to London. 


CHAPTER XXX Y. 


My wife gains access to the Tower, where she hears and 
sees much to surprise and sadden her. 

On arriving at my destination/ 1 lost no time 
in making my way to the Tower. It was with a 
heavy heart that I approached its gloomy portals, 
clad in my oldest, simplest gown, and carrying in 
my arms a basket filled with small loaves, to give 
myself the appearance of a maid-servant. I had 
no difficulty in passing the guard at the postern, 
at the entrance of the footway that crosses the 
broad moat ; at the Middle tower and the Bye- 
ward tower, which give admittance to the inner 
circumference, I was also permitted to pass un- 
challenged. But when I was about to go through 
the frowning gateway of the Bloody tower, into 
the interior of the fortress, one of the watchmen 
suddenly lowered his halberd, and pointing it 
directly at my breast, called to me to halt. Startled 
and alarmed, I nearly let fall the basket I was car- 
rying ; but one of the other soldiers interfered, 
saying to his comrade: “Out upon you for an 
unmannerly knave ! Is that the way to deal with 
a fair maiden*? Let her go by ; I will wager it 
is our commandant’s new serving- woman. I did 
not think Madam would have got another so 
soon. By my troth,’ tis the third since midsum- 
mer ! W e shall see how long she can put up with 
the old dragon. Go on your way, mistress ; but 
first you must give me a kiss or pay me a groat as 
your ransom.” 


( 440 ) 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 441 


I willingly put the required coin into the 
man’s hand, and with a sense of relief hastened 
through the dark archway into the open space, in 
the midst of which rose the so-called White 
tower, flanked with four turrets. The watchman’s 
speech contained a suggestion which was a god- 
send to me. I resolutely walked over the turf to 
the residence of the Commandant, or Lieutenant 
of the Tower, as he was called, and knocked at 
the door. It was opened by an elderly serving- 
man, who asked my business. With a beating 
heart I said I had heard that a serving-maid was 
wanted, and had come after the place. He scan- 
ned me closely from head to foot, and left me 
standing in the hall, while he went into the 
kitchen, whence the cook, a tall, raw-boned woman, 
presently issued, and subjected me to a similar 
scrutiny. Finally she fetched a thin, sharp featured 
lady, the expression of whose restless eye bespoke 
a love of fault finding and scolding. She too 
looked me over, and then in a high pitched fal- 
setto voice, asked my name. To have given my 
real name would have been to defeat my object 
and hazard my liberty; so I gave as my own my 
mother’s maiden name, Mary Forster. 

The lady began to find fault immediately, 
protesting against the use of so Popish an 
appellation, which recalled the dreadful days 
of the Spanish queen, the persecutor of 
the people of the Lord, and reminded 
her too of the Queen of Scots, who enveigled 
into her toils a party of young men, and 
had nearly been the cause of deluging England with 


442 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

blood. Only on condition that I would change 
my name for one of the biblical names of the Old 
Testament , such as Sarah, Rebecca or Ruth, would 
she consent to take me. I expressed my readiness 
to be called by whatever appellation she might 
please to assign me. This pacified her for a time ; 
she gave me the name of Ruth. Then a fresh 
difficulty arose ; she saw my white hands, and 
cried out that I was surely an impostor, no hon" 
est menial. I acknowledged that until then there 
had been no necessity for me to earn my bread, but 
that family misfortunes and the successive loss of 
all my near relatives within a short period, obliged 
me to take service. If she would engage me, she 
would find me trusty and industrious, and willing 
to do the roughest work. 

Thereupon she consented to try me, and I was 
told what would be required of me. The tasks 
enumerated were neither few nor light ; yet I could 
hardly conceal my joy when my mistress, Lady 
Hopton (the wife of Sir Owen Hopton, to whom 
the command of the Tower, with its hundreds of 
prisoners, was committed) mentioned amongst my 
other duties that of looking after the female Catho- 
lic prisoners. This determined me that it should 
not be my fault if I did not remain there ; so I fol- 
lowed the cook into the kitchen, rolled up my 
sleeves, put on an apron, and set about washing 
the dishes and sweeping the house. 

As I was descending the stairs, after putting in 
order the Council Chamber, where a meeting of 
ministers was shortly to be held, I met my master, 
Sir Owen, a rough-looking, thick-set man, who was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 443 

coming up, accompanied by Walsingham. I could 
not help overhearing their conversation. “So you 
want me to find board and lodging for your nephew 
St. Barbe, Sir Francis,” my master said. “Well, 
it can be done for the sum you mention. And the 
other members of the Privy Council are to know 
nothing about it? Very good, a written order from 
yourself will be enough. There is a cell close by 
vacant now, the one occupied by Bellamy, who 
died from the injuries he received on the rack. Of 
course we gave out that he strangled himself ; but, 
between ourselves, he died a most happy death, 
with a Popish canticle to the Virgin on his lips. 
Well, he was a poor simpleton at the best.” 

The effect these words produced on me may be 
imagined. I was obliged to lean on the balusters, 
to keep myself from falling. I could not conceal 
my agitation from the two men, who had now 
turned the corner. The Lieutenant attributed my 
tears to his wife’s scolding, and told me I must get 
accustomed to her spiteful tongue. I put my apron 
up to my eyes, but not before Walsingham’ s keen 
eye had rested oh me. “Who may that be?” he 
inquired. 

“Our new maid. My wife has a fresh one 
every week, so I am tired of asking their names,” 
Hopton replied, as they went on. And I was 
thankful to hear him say, in answer to Walsing- 
ham’ s remark that I looked more like a gentle- 
woman than a serving-maid, as for that, no one of 
gentle birth would stay an hour in their house. 

They then passed into the corridor, and I went 
back to the kitchen, where the cook, who had a 


444 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

kinder heart than one would imagine from her 
rough exterior, likewise ascribed my woe-begone 
appearance to my having incurred her mistress’ 
displeasure. The old skin-flint, she declared, was 
getting quite intolerable ; then she advised me to 
go back into the city at once, and fetch my chest 
with my clothes. She gave me a pass, which had 
served my predecessor, exhorting me not to lose it, 
or I might have difficulty in getting in again, and 
above all to return punctually by four o’clock, as 
the gates were closed at that hour. 

Whilst I was crossing the Tower Green, I saw 
a young man coming towards the house I had just 
left, between two sheriff’s officers. His countenance 
was pale and haggard, his clothes torn and soiled, 
his arms were pinioned behind his back . I recog- 
nized him instantly, it was Babington. A pang 
went through my heart at the sight of him. What 
a contrast he looked to the handsome young fellow 
who espoused my poor sister? I hurried away with 
averted face, lest he should identify me, and unwit- 
tingly say something that would compromise me. 
Alas ! I must be prepared for sad sights in that 
terrible prison-house, and must be most cautious 
to preserve my disguise. 

That morning I had observed in Water Lane, 
close to the Tower, the shop of a dealer in second- 
hand clothes. Thither I now directed my steps, to 
purchase the linen and other clothes I should 
require in my character of serving- woman. I also 
bought some yards of cambric and fine holland ; 
last of all I procured a stout chest, painted blue 
and adorned with birds and flowers, in which I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON, 445 


packed the various articles I had purchased. The 
dealer, who was well content with the bargain he 
had made, sent a lad with me to carry the chest. 
Kache], my fellow- servant, helped me to take it up 
to my chamber, and I then gave her the cambric 
and cloth , with all that was necessary for a bodice. 
She did not say much, but I saw that my gift 
had won her heart. And when, half an hour later, 
my mistress came into the kitchen, and began to 
rate me about something, Rachel stepped between 
us, and told her to her face that if she did not de- 
sist from her nagging, we would both Leave her that 
same night. Thereupon the sour-visaged lady cast 
up her eyes, and expressed her wonder that a 
Christian maid- servant under the Gospel should 
venture to rebel against just authority. Were we 
plotting a conspiracy against her, as the godless 
Papists had done against the Queen’s Majesty? 

As soon as she had gone, I took the occasion 
to put some questions to my companion about the 
conspiracy of which Lady Hopton had spoken. 
“What,” she said, “has nothing been heard of it 
in your village? Did you not hear how Babing- 
ton and his associates wanted to murder the 
Queen, set Mary Stuart on the throne, deliver the 
country to the Spaniards, and uproot the Gospel 
everywhere. And as true as I am a living woman, 
no one would expect it of the lads, they look so 
young and so good humoured. I will show them to 
you ; they are brought here every day to the Coun- 
cil Chamber to be examined, in the hope that 
they will give evidence against the Scottish 
Queen. But hitherto they have not done so, 


446 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

though they have been mercilessly tortured, so 
the clerk told me. It is said the Jesuits have 
given them some charm which prevents them from 
feeling pain.” 

“ I was told that some gentlewomen had been 
arrested with them,” I said timidly, standing so 
that she could not see my face. 

She replied: “Yes, two; old Mistress Bell- 
amy and her daughter or granddaughter, W'ho is 
said to be Babington’s wife. They are confined 
over there in the Cold Harbour, that old weather- 
beaten towe^ by the White tower. You can see 
it from the kitchen window, and from your little 
chamber you can see the window of their cell. 
To-morrow we shall have to take them their din- 
ner ; they are both sick, the young one I think is 
the worst of the two.” 

At this point Rachel went away elsewhere, 
and in truth I had no wish to question her fur- 
ther. While I was occupied in my work, a man 
entered the kitchen, whom I recognized as the 
boatman, Bill Bell, who had taken us down to 
Gravesend. 

I made myself known to him, and he ex- 
claimed aloud in his astonishment at finding me 
there. But I silenced him with a gesture, and 
he took his cue in a moment. “I understand,” 
he said with a low whistle. “But be on your 
guard ; you will find this a more dangerous place 
than the Thames. Yet our trip that night nearly 
brought me to the gallows. However nothing 
could be proved against me, so, as I am no 
Papist, I was let off with six months imprison- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 447 


ment for smuggling. I could not stand the con- 
finement, so I offered my services to Sir Owen, 
and the arrangement suits us both admirably; he 
has not to pay a man, and I have the oppor- 
tunity of earning many an honest penny. For 
this I must say: the Papists are very liberal with 
their money, when it is a question of helping their 
priests and co-religionists. ” 

“You shall not find me less liberal,’ ’ I said, 
slipping a piece of gold into his hand. “Take that 
to begin with. Now tell me what can be done, 
what you can help me to do for my poor grand- 
mother, my sister, my uncle, and the other pris- 
oners!” 

The man, surprised at receiving from me so 
large a gratuity, promised to aid me to the utmost 
of his power, provided there was no attempt to re- 
lease any prisoner, for he was bound by oath to 
help no one to escape. He promised at my request 
to acquaint my relatives with my presence ; other- 
wise, when I went to carry their food to them the 
next day, my secret might be divulged. “For the 
rest,” he added, “mark you, inside the Tower a 
golden key opens every door. I really believe, if 
one had gold enough, the gates of the Tower itself 
would unclose at one’s bidding ; but it would be 
a matter of great difficulty on account of the num- 
ber of warders to be corrupted. But within the walls 
a yellow coin such as you have just given me is as 
good as a skeleton key. Good Heavens ! I have 
learnt a good deal, since I have been here. Over 
there in the Martin tower, at the north-east corner 
of the inner enclosure, a Jesuit named William 


448 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Crichton has been immured for years. Almost 
every night that man is conducted either to the 
good Earl of Arundel in the Beauchamp tower, or 
to some other dungeon, where he says mass for the 
Popish prisoners, and administers the sacrament. 
He gave your uncle the sacrament and anointed 
him, although it was here in the Bell tower that he 
died, and the only means of access to it is through 
this house. Bachel was kind enough to open 
the doors for us, and she made a very good thing 
of it.” 

Here we were interrupted, and Bill went away, 
after repeating his promise to apprise the prisoners 
in the Cold Harbour of my proximity. That even- 
ing, when I looked from my attic window at the 
cell where my dear ones were confined, I could not 
sufficiently thank God for having so visibly guided 
and directed my steps during the past day. Long 
did I stand gazing at the gray walls and towers, 
lighted up by the clear moonlight. Opposite to me on 
the green was the church of St. Peter ad vincula , and 
on a slight elevation in front of the church I could 
see the block, where the unhappy Anne Boleyn paid 
the price of her evil deeds. What a record of deeds 
of horror surrounded me on all sides, but again? 
what heroic examples of Christian fortitude. With 
the thought of these I consoled myself as I lay 
down to sleep, and above all with the knowledge 
that almost every night the Holy Sacrifice was 
offered within the precincts of this cruel fortress, 
and fervent supplications ascended to Heaven from 
the lips of my Catholic brethren. 

I need hardly say how much I longed, on the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 449 


morrow, for the time when I should have to carry 
their dinner to the female prisoners. But another 
piece of intelligence awaited me before then. 

It must not be supposed that, although I have 
for so^ long said nothing about my betrothed, 
anxiety as to his fate was not one of the bitterest 
drops in my cup of sorrows. I was, however, com- 
pletely impotent, for had I known with certainty 
that he had escaped, I should not have known 
where to seek him. I could do nothing but wait. 
I was resolved to be true to him, and as I could not 
in my present character, wear on my finger the 
ring lie had given me beneath the wonderful flower 
at Woxindon, I fastened it round my neck on a 
ribbon, and wore it on my heart. If on the other 
hand, he had been drowned in the Thames, as was 
generally thought, I could only weep for him and 
pray for him, hope to be reunited to him here- 
after, and submit to the decrees, grievous though 
they were, of an all-wise and all-loving Providence. 
I prayed earnestly for resignation, for I believed 
that my dear Edward had found a watery grave, 
and thus escaped the terrible death that awaited 
his associates only too surely. But I did not alto- 
gether give up hope, for youth and love do not 
readily despair. 

And now, quite unexpectedly, I was to learn 
what had befallen him. Bill Bell found an oppor- 
tunity of telling me he had executed my commis- 
sion, and that if I was in a position to pay for it, 
he could provide my relatives in the Cold Harbour 
with bedding, and other little indulgences. To this 
I gladly assented, and gave the old sea-farer, who 


450 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I knew was to be trusted, a good round sum for 
the purpose. Then he said; u Miss Bellamy, after 
I left you yesterday, it occurred to me there was 
something else you would like to hear.” Dropping 
his voice to a whisper, he asked whether I was 
not betrothed, or perhaps married to Windsor, 
who had gone down the river to Gravesend with 
me! And when I eagerly answered yes, he told 
me that my lover was not drowned, as, fortunately 
for him, his enemies assumed, but had been taken 
out of the water in an unconscious state, and 
concealed in a garret at the top of his house by 
his son, at great risk to himself, for, as the reader 
already knows, Topcliffe presently came to search 
the dwelling. Thus Windsor, alone of all the 
chief conspirators had been able to elude the 
vigilance of the pursuivants. 

u Where is he at present!” I inquired, once 
more breathing freely. 

u In the attic, where my daughter Maud died. 
It would be impossible, or at any rate highly im- 
prudent, for him to try to leave England just 
now. The harbours are so strictly watched, and 
the vessels so closely searched, that a hundred 
chances to one he would be caught. After the 
lapse of some time, when the wretched conspiracy 
is no longer present to men’s minds, he may make 
the attempt. Meanwhile he is quite as comfort- 
able in his attic as he would be in the Tower, 
and next week he will be able to see his asso- 
ciates taken to Westminster, to hear their sen- 
tence. Shall I send him any message from you, 
when my boy next comes to see me!” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 451 


I reflected for a moment, and then said no, 
for I thought the knowledge that I was here 
might tempt my betrothed to do something rash. 
But I thanked my informant for all he had done 
for him, as well as for having told me of his 
safety, and thereby taken a great weight off my 
mind. 

Rachel’ s voice called me into the kitchen, 
and for two or three hours I had to work hard. 
We prepared the tasty viands for our master’s 
table and the meagre soup, made from peas of in- 
different quality, to be set before the prisoners. 
Lady Hopton took good care that it should not be 
too rich or highly flavoured ; it was not good, she 
said, for those in captivity, besides they ought to 
eat their bread with ashes, especially the obdurate 
Papists, who w r ere in the gall of bitterness and the 
bond of iniquity. 

At length eleven o’clock sounded from the 
belfry, and Rachel told me it was time to take the 
prisoner’s dinner to them. My heart beat fast, as 
we began our round of the cells in the inner part of 
the fortress ; the prisoners confined in the towers 
which formed part of the walls were served by 
others. We crossed the green to the Gold 
Harbour, and after filling the basins of the women 
on the ground floor, we ascended by a narrow 
winding stairs constructed in the thickness of the 
wall to the upper story. 

What a sight met my eyes when Rachel turned 
the key in the lock, and we entered through the low 
door into the dungeon! On a heap of rotten straw, 
whence arose an intolerable stench, I beheld two 


452 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

figures clad in rags. One seemed to sleep, and lay 
moaning as if in troubled dream ; the other, putting 
aside her snow white hair that hung about her 
wrinkled, pallid face, shaded her sunken eyes with 
a trembling hand, and peered at me through the 
gloom. It was my dear, good grandmother! I 
should not have recognized her if I had not known 
that she was here, and heard the familiar tones of 
her voice, as with her own gentle manner, she 
greeted my companion, and asked who she had 
brought with her. 

“Ruth Forster, our new maidservant , 77 Rachel 
replied. “We shall see how long she can put 
up with the she-dragon, our mistress. How 
are you to-day, Mistress Bellamy, and how is your 
daughter ? 77 

“It is well with me and my poor granddaugh- 
ter , 77 was the reply, “for it is with us as God wills, 
and as he has foreknown from all eternity, and 
ordained for our eternal welfare. Anne is quieter, 
she is almost always asleep, like a child; God in 
His mercy has cast a veil over her mental vision, 
thus she is insensible to earthly woe. She fancies 
herself at Woxindon, and talks about the wonder- 
ful plant that blossomed there this spring, and in 
the summer bore five blood-red berries. I told you 
about it the other day. So that is your new maid- 
servant? Come hither, girl, if you do not shrink 
from an old woman, and let me see your face, as 
well as I can in the this prison twilight . 77 

A slight cry which would not be altogether 
suppressed, escaped my lips, as I stepped forward, 
and taking my grandmothers hand, kissed it ten- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 453 


derly. I sank on my knees, hardly able to contain 
myself; Kachel thought I was fainting. “I told 
you, you had better remain outside, it takes time 
to get accustomed to the stench of these dungeons, ” 
she exclaimed, and taking some water from a stone 
pitcher that stood by, she sprinkled it on my 
temples. I sprang to my feet, and once more raised 
my grandmother’s hand to my lips. I then per- 
ceived what I had not noticed before, that her right 
arm was fettered, and fastened by a thick chain to 
a ring that ran on an iron rod reaching from one 
wall to the other behind the bed. “Is it possible,” 
I cried, “that any one can treat an old woman of 
eighty in this wise!” 

My grandmother smiled, and said: “These 
fetters will not hold me long. You seem to have a 
kind heart; may God bless you in time and in 
eternity!” and she made the sign of the cross on 
my forehead. I looked sorrowfully at my sister, 
who lay with averted countenance on the bed, and 
she added: “Do not disturb poor Anne, she is 
asleep.” She pressed my hand, and I went away, 
fearing to awaken suspicion in Rachel’s mind. As 
we descended the spiral staircase, she did in fact 
say; “You are far too soft-hearted for a maid in 
the Tower. Or perhaps you knew the Bellamys 
before 1 ?” Thereupon I replied that such a sight, 
even in the case of a perfect stranger, was enough 
to move anynone, and she did not gainsay me. 

Towards evening I contrived to ask the old 
skipper whether he could procure me an interview 
with Father Crichton, or, to speak plainly, an 
opportunity to approach the Sacraments and hear 


454 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

mass, for he knew I was a Catholic. He said it 
was always a venturesome thing to do, but often 
the Catholic prisoners came out of their several 
cells, and met in one where mass could be most 
conveniently spid. The golden key was omnipo- 
tent. He thought that very night, between two 
and three in the morning, they were to meet for 
that purpose in the Beauchamp tower, where the 
Earl of Arundel was confined, and if I was not 
afraid, he would conduct me thither. I assented 
joyfully; and he showed me a ladder whereby I 
might climb down out of a loft to which I could 
obtain access from my room. If I had the cour- 
age to do that, he would await me in the stable 
below at two o’clock precisely. I said, I would 
trust to my guardian angel to keep me from 
missing the ladder in the darkness, or taking a false 
step, and so the matter was agreed upon. I wanted 
to persuade him to bring my uncle Remy and 
poor Babington as well, but although I offered 
him a large bribe, he would not hear of it. It 
was quite impossible, he said, for they were 
heavily ironed, and the key of their fetters was 
in the Lord Lieutenant’s safe keeping. However 
he promised to take the priest to them before their 
execution, which was now certain, and with this I 
had to be content. 



CHAPTER XXXYI. 


My wife finds an unexpected source of consolation open when 
in the Tower. She visits some of the prisoners ; and 
acquaints the reader with the sad fate of Babington and 
his friends. 

The following night was a wakeful one for me, 
so fearful was I of missing the appointed hour. 
The prisoner to whose cell I was to be conducted, 
was one of the most distinguished of English peers, 
in whose fate I was deeply interested. Philip 
Howard, Earl of Arundel, had two years previously 
been received into the Church by our friend, Father 
Weston. In order to live in accordance with his 
creed, he had resigned the highest posts at Eliza- 
beth’s Court, intending to go abroad. Betrayed by 
the captain of the vessel on which he took his 
passage, and brought back to London in custody, 
he was, by the Queen’s command, without even the 
semblance of judicial inquiry or sentence, im- 
prisoned in the Beauchamp tower. There he lan- 
guished for ten years, and died the death of a 
confessor, or rather of a martyr, for poison was 
mixed with his food. At the time of which I am 
speaking he had been about a year in prison, and 
was leading the life of an ascetic; increasing, as 
far as his outer man was concerned, the sufferings 
of incarceration, but alleviating them in regard to 
his inner man, by almost unbroken prayer and 
meditation, by strict fasts and voluntary acts of 
penance. We had heard much that was edifying 
from his confessor, Father Weston, of this man 
( 455 ) 


456 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

who for Christ’s sake joyfully bore separation from 
wife and children; and I rejoiced at the prospect 
of seeing one whose example I should do well to 
follow. 

At last the clock struck two. Noiselessly I 
crept through the loft, feeling in the dark for the 
ladder. My guardian angel guided me to it. Not 
without trepidation did I set my feet on the rungs, 
and begin to descend into unknown depths. Before 
I reached the bottom, Bill Bell opened the door, 
and a ray of moonlight fell across the floor. We 
stole along the side of the Lieutenant’s house, and 
along the foot of the wall connecting the Bell tower 
with the Beauchamp, taking care to keep within 
the shadow they cast, for all around the moonlight 
shone clear as day on tower and turret. Within 
the vast fortress, whose precincts enclosed many a 
sad and brokenhearted sufferer, perfect silence 
reigned, broken only by the tramp of the sentry 
on the ramparts ; hearing which, we crept closer to 
the wall, to elude observation. At length the 
Beauchamp tower was gained ; the gate was ajar ; 
a few steps further and we passed through a massive 
oaken door into a spacious apartment, wherein 
numerous state prisoners, some guilty, some guilt- 
less, and several martyrs too, had been confined. 

On entering, I saw several prisoners there, 
kneeling on the flag- stones. A small table was 
placed before the hearth, to serve as an altar, a 
crucifix and candles stood on the mantle-shelf. 
Behind them I could discern the words which the 
noble Earl had carved in the stone : 

Quanto plus afflictio7iis pro Christo in hoc saecula , 

Tanto plus gloriae cum Christo in futuro. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 457 


I knelt down quietly in a corner of the cell, and in 
a few minutes the priest came in, a man still young, 
and very pale, whose office was not to be known 
by his clothes, which were of a grey colour, but by 
the respect wherewith Lord Arundel greeted him. 
Father Crichton (for it was he) knelt for a brief, 
space in prayer ; then, in purposely low tones, he 
addressed to those present a brief exhortation, 
saying in a few short sentences much that was 
encouraging and consoling about the royal road of 
the Cross, which the Son of God points out to us 
as the path to Heaven. This done, he seated him- 
self on a chair in one corner, and heard Arundel’s 
confession, as well as that of one or two others. I 
expected as much, and had preiwed myself ; ac- 
cordingly I went up and made my confession. At 
the close I asked the priest, whom I told who I 
was, whether he could give me any comfort about 
my relatives. He told me of Uncle Barty’s happy 
death, and said Uncle Bemy and my grandmother 
rejoiced to suffer imprisonment and perhaps death 
for a deed of charity. Nor was I to grieve over 
Anne’s lot; in a lucid interval she had made her 
confession, and now the Divine physician, who 
apportions to each his measure of suffering, had 
caused sleep to fall on her mental faculties. Finally 
he warned me that I must use great circumspection, 
and counselled me to supernaturalize by the love 
of God the hard service I had undertaken for love 
of my kinsfolk. 

Immediately afterwards he vested, and said 
mass. Lord Arundel served, and we all received 
Holy Communion. Aptly is that celestial food 


458 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

called the bread of the strong; the solace and 
strength I derived from it was great indeed. I do 
not think I conld have borne for a single week the 
vexations to which my mistress subjected me, had 
it not been for the support afforded by, this holy 
sacrament, and the mass at which I assisted almost 
every week, either in the Beauchamp or some other 
tower. Thus even in the prison-house, when at 
times my burden seemed too heavy to be borne, a 
source of spiritual consolation was still open to me. 

The next time that I went with Rachel to carry 
the prisoner’s dinner to the Cold Harbour, we 
found, to her surprise and my joy, a great change 
in their circumstances. The cell had been cleansed, 
a wooden bedstead and mattress substituted for the 
foul heap of straw, and even a small table and two 
chairs were placed before it. My dear grandmother 
was sitting at the table with her back against the 
wall ; she rose and came to meet us, as far, that is 
as her chain permitted, saying to Rachel, “see, 
what influence and the kindness of friends can do 
for one. We are really too well accommodated for 
this place. May God reward a thousandfold those 
who have befriended us!” And then she looked at 
me in such a loving manner, that I felt amply 
rewarded for all that I had done. Thus I daily 
had an opportunity of hearing a word of consolation 
and encouragement from my grandmother’s lips ; 
as for my poor sister she never spoke to me, but 
remained in the same imbecile condition. 

My feast, the Nativity of our Lady, came and 
went; I heard that Walsingham’s nephew was 
now an inmate of the Tower, that Windsor was 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 459 


still in hiding in the skipper’s house at St. Catha- 
rine’s wharf, and that it was thought that the 
Queen of Scots would be put to death. 

Then came the day when Babington and his 
friends were arraigned before a Court of Justice 
appointed by the Queen. It was the 14th of Sep- 
tember, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. We 
watched the barge with the accused as it passed 
beneath the broad arch of the bridge at St. Thomas’ 
tower, to go out through the Traitor’s gate down to 
Westminster. John Ballard, the priest, my un- 
happy brother-in-law Anthony Babington, besides 
Salisbury, Barnewell, Donne and Tichbourne were 
there; also John Savage, whom I had never seen 
before. He had been arraigned on the preceding 
day, but sentence had not been passed on him. 
Heavily ironed, they sat, surrounded by men-at- 
arms, in the centre of the boat, which moved slowly 
onwards, keeping close to the banks, in order that 
the crowds of spectators who had assembled there, 
might stare at them and revile them at their pleas- 
ure. The prisoners remained unmoved amid the 
insults of the populace. I was told that they all 
pleaded guilty of having conspired to set Mary 
Stuart at liberty, and of not having given informa- 
tion of Parma’s design to land foreign troops in 
England ; but they positively denied having plotted 
against Elizabeth’s life. Savage alone owned to 
this; he said a certain Gilbert Gifford, formerly 
professor of philosophy at Rheims, persuaded him 
that the assassination of the Queen was a lawful 
and meritorious act. Ror could Babington deny 
having been privy to Savage’s murderous design. 


460 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

The noblest answer was that of Ballard : he ad- 
mitted that he ‘ ‘practised the Queen of Scots’ deliver- 
ance, and went about to alter the religion,” but that 
he had intended to kill the Queen he would not admit. 
All the others made a similar statement. But it 
was of no use ; according to the criminal law they 
had incurred the dreadful penalty of high treason, 
and judgment was given to that effect. And yet, I 
heard Sir Owen Hopton say at table, those who 
were present were not satisfied with the proceedings; 
all hoped that evidence would be adduced that 
Mary Stuart was a party to, and had sanctioned 
the proposal to assassinate Elizabeth, in fact that 
the conspirators would be compelled to bear public 
witness against her. But neither in the accusation 
nor during the trial, was mention made of the 
alleged complicity of the Queen of Scots; and 
many were heard to say, as they left the Star 
Chamber, that the general opinion in that respect 
appeared to be an incorrect one. 

On the following day all the other accomplices, 
all, that is, who aided and abetted Babington or 
his friends in their flight, were likewise conducted 
by water to Westminster, to hear sentence passed 
on them. I shall hardly be believed when I say 
that my aged grandmother was arraigned with the 
rest. But the clerk of the Court happened to have 
inadvertently given her a wrong Christian name, 
and on this account the Lieutenant allowed her to 
remain behind. Of the seven men, Uncle Remy 
was the only one who was not a stranger to me. I 
was shocked when I saw him ; accustomed as he 
was to an active life in the open air, the close 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 461 


atmosphere of the prison had pulled him down 
sadly. He acknowledged that he had suj)plied 
Babington and his friends with provisions. His 
defence was characteristic of the man. “I am a 
Catholic/’ he said, “and I do not think St. Peter 
will shut the gate of Heaven against me, when I tell 
him my fellow countrymen sent me to the gallows 
for having fed the hungry and given drink to the 
thirsty, as our Lord commands. ’ ’ When condemned 
with the others to death for high treason, he said 
not a word. 

A few days later, Bill Bell came to me, and 
asked if I would accompany him, the following 
night, to the cell were Tichbourne was confined. 
The unfortunate young man was, he said, extremely 
desirous to send a farewell letter to comfort his 
young wife, who was sick in Hampshire, but he 
could not hold a pen, his wrist having been couu 
pletely dislocated on the rack. After a few moments 
I consented, considering that it was a work of 
charity to console the afflicted, trusting to my 
guardian angel to preserve me from harm. Ac- 
cordingly that night, before the moon was up, I 
went with the old boatman to the Develin tower, 
which was situated at the north-west corner of the 
inner enclosure. We had to pass the quarters of 
the musketeers, and I was terribly afraid of the 
guard. But Bell steered our course so wisely that 
we escaped their notice. When we got to the 
church of St. Peter ad vincula , we stood up close to 
the wall, until the sentry had turned, and we heard 
his steps retreating in the opposite direction. Then 
we stole on to the Develin tower ; the warder was 


462 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

waiting to admit ns into the dark dungeon where 
* poor Tichbourne was crouching on a bundle of straw. 

“Whom have you brought V 7 he asked my 
companion, starting up as we entered. “I said I 
wanted a notary. ’ ’ 

The man explained that in the Tower one must 
have whom one could get; besides he was bringing 
an old acquaintance. He turned his lantern on my 
face, and Tichbourne recognized me at once. In a 
few words I told him how I came there ; he was 
greatly touched, and listened to my expressions of 
sympathy with tears in his eyes. Then he kissed 
my hand, and declared his readiness to forgive all 
who had brought these misfortunes upon him, 
primarily Babington; also Walsingham, to whose 
intrigues he attributed the connection of their plot 
with Savage’s design, his judges, and the cruel 
Queen, who had commanded the frightful sentence 
to be carried out with the utmost severity. He 
also said that he accepted this violent death in 
expiation of his sins. 

I laid the paper which I had brought with me 
on a wooden stool, to serve as a table, and kneeling 
before it, I wrote from his dictation a wonderfully 
beautiful letter to his poor young wife. In touching 
words he begged her forgiveness. His zeal for the 
Catholic cause, his compassion for the innocent 
Queen of Scots, his attachment to his friends, had 
brought him to this pass. He had to choose 
between betraying his associates or giving himself 
up to the hangman, and the latter seemed to him 
the most honourable alternative. That thought 
must be his and her consolation. The manner of 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 463 


his death would be no disgrace because so many 
X)riests had drunk the same chalice, and thereby 
cast a halo round the shameful gibbet. He died, 
like many of his noble ancestors, for a chivalrous 
cause, the rescue of the innocent, and the promo- 
tion of religion ; so at least he thought, when he 
engaged in the enterprise. It had turned out other- 
wise ; but God and all good men would look to the 
intention, not the result. Finally he exhorted her 
to find true solace in God, and concluded with the 
hope of an eternal reunion hereafter. 

I read over to him what I had written, and he 
attempted to sign it. An illegible scrawl was all 
that he could achieve. u Mr. Topcliffe with his 
rack is a bad writing-master, ” he said, as he handed 
me back the pen with a sorrowful smile. Then he 
begged' me to write down some verses that he had 
composed since he was sentenced. They are very 
melancholy, and show how much it cost him to give 
up his life ; yet I liked them so much that I asked 
if I might keep a copy of them, in reward for my 
services as amanuensis. He consented willingly, 
and asked me to pray for him on the day of execu- 
tion, and afterwards for the repose of his soul. 
The following are the verses he dictated : 

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares ; 

My feast of joy is but a dish of pain ; 

My crop of corn is but a field of tears ; 

And all my goods is but vain hope of gain ; 

The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun : 

And now I live, and now my life is done ! 

My spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung ; 

The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green ; 

My youth is past, and yet I am but young ; 

I saw the world, and yet I was not seen ; 

My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun : 

And now I live, and now my life is done ! 


464 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

I sought for death and found it in the wombe ; 

I lookt for life and yet it was a shade ; 

I trade the ground and knew it was my tombe, 

And now I dye, and now I am but made. 

The glass is full, and yet my glass is run — ; 

And now I live, and now my life is done ! 2 ) 

Bill Bell warned me that it was time to depart, 
if I wanted to look in on my uncle, who was con- 
fined in the same tower. So I bade farewell to 
Tich bourne, whom I was never to see again on 
earth, and followed my companion into another 
cell. I only stayed a moment with uncle Remy, 
and we said but few words to one another. “Is 
that you, Mary,” he said, when he recognized me, 
rubbing his eyes, as if to rouse himself from sleep, 
but I saw he wanted to conceal the tears that filled 
them. “It is too bad of you, to come and wake me 
out of my first sleep.” Then the strong man broke 
down, and sobbed like a child. He clasped me to 
his heart, caressing me, and saying : “What an old 
blockhead I am! Now go, child, and do not trouble 
yourself any more about me, except to pray for 
me. Barty is already in heaven, and he will help 
me to follow him. Give my love to mother and 
poor Anne.” He turned his face to the wall and 
made me a sign to go. In that manner we parted. 

On Tuesday, the 20th of September, A. D. 1586, 
the first half of the condemned conspirators were 
executed. It was a warm autumn morning. A 
great number of bailiffs and men-at-arms accom- 
panied the mournful procession which was formed 
under our windows. Three hurdles were brought, 
and at 9 o’clock precisely the accused were led 


b Disraeli, Curiosities of Literature, ii, 195. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 465 


out and bound on them. Sir Owen Hopton gave 
the signal, and they were set in motion. On the 
first hurdle were Ballard, Babiogton and Savage, 
the supposed ring-leaders of the plot ; next came 
Tichbourne and Barnewell, while two of their 
friends, strangers to me, Tilney and. Abingdon, 
brought up the rear. The men ax^peared to be 
tranquil and self-qmssessed ; as the hurdles dis- 
appeared beneath the gateway of the Bloody tower, 
I caught the sound of the Miserere , which Ballard 
began. They were dragged, as I heard to my 
disgust, all the way through the town to St. Giles- 
in-the-Fields, where they used to meet to con- 
coct their plan for Mary Stuart’s deliverance. 
There, under the sx>reading oaks, were the gallows 
and scaffold erected. Bravely they went to their 
death. Ballard again declared that all he had done 
was done in good faith and for the sake of religion, 
and never had he consx>ired against the Queen’s 
life. Babington said the same; he acknowledged 
his error, and implored forgiveness. Tichbourne 
spoke at greater length. He depicted his happy 
youth, when he wanted nothing he could wish for, 
and said nothing was further from his mind than a 
conspiracy against the Queen. He was the victim 
of regard for his friend. He was descended of a 
house that had existed for 200 years before the 
conquest, and whose members were never 
stained with crime. Tilney declared that he was a 
true Catholic ; upon which he was interrupted by 
the Protestant minister, a Dr. White, who was 
present. Tilney replied: “I came hither to die, 
Doctor, not to dispute,” and desired to be troubled 


466 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

with no more questions. Then they fell to prayers, 
and I believe Ballard gave his companions the last 
absolution. The dreadful execution followed, over 
the details of which we must pass, only remarking, 
that by the express orders of the Queen, they were 
put to death with studied cruelty, their sufferings 
being protracted to the uttermost. Ballard was 
executed first ; he was disembowelled while yet 
alive, and fully conscious. Babington followed ; 
his youth and elegance made a great impression on 
the spectators. In the midst of his agonizing 
torments he cried several times aloud in latin : 
Parce mihi , Domine Jesu! In like manner all the 
others were put to death in their turn. 

The horrid scene, together with the patience of 
the victims, had excited the disgust and pity of the 
bystanders to such a pitch, that when, on the 
following day, my uncle Berny and the rest were to 
be executed, this was done with less cruelty, for 
fear of an uprising of the people. They were there- 
fore not cut to pieces until after death. 

At length these terrible days were ended. The 
victims had been sacrificed, and I thanked God 
that it was all over. I had now only to think of 
the two sick prisoners in the Cold Harbour, and it 
seemed probable that through the mercy of God 
their sufferings would, ere long, be terminated also. 


CHAPTER XXX VII. 


St. Barbe is consigned to the Tower ; he hears of Mary 
Stuarts beheadal ; and shortly afterwards is set at 
liberty by his uncle. 

I had been kept a close prisoner in Walsing- 
haru’s house for a fortnight, when he came to me 
one morning, and talked quite kindly to me at 
first ; presently, however, he asked me if I had 
not yet come to a better mind. Quietly and 
firmly I replied that I could not do better than 
follow my conscience, even if by so doing I destroyed 
my earthly prospects. Thereupon he rose up and 
said : “Very well. As you please. To the Tower 
you will go this very evening. ” With these words 
he left me. 

When darkness had closed in, old Gray came 
in. Placing upon the table a link that he car- 
ried, he began: “Mr. St. Barbe, his Excellency 
the Secretary of State desires me to ask whether 
what you said this morning is your final decision. 
Upon my giving an answer in the affirmative, he 
shook his gray head, and besought me to have pity 
on my youth. “It is useless to swim against the 
current. Your evidence will not be taken against 
that of the Secretary of State ; the proofs are de- 
stroyed. Look at those two secretaries, Nau and 
Curie ; they began by protesting they would rather 
die than be faithless to their gracious mistress. 
Now they have gradually taken down their pride, 
for fear of prison and rack they have already 
asserted that the letter shown them by Walsingham 
( 467 ) 


468 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

appears to be genuine, or is at any rate the same in 
its main features as the original. Some further 
revelations to their mistress’ disadvantage may 
presently be expected from them. What would 
you have ! Life is sweet and the rack very bitter. 
Another thing, young sir ; you cannot possibly 
save Mary Stuart, you will only ruin yourself and 
bring your uncle into disgrace with the Queen. 
And let one who has known you from a boy tell 
you in confidence, your uncle’s monetary affairs 
are in a bad state. You know how parsimonious 
the Queen is in regard to grants of money for 
political purposes, lavish as she is in her expendi- 
ture on dress. Consequently Walsingham has been 
compelled to pay the hundreds of spies he employs 
in Paris, Madrid, Rome, and even in the seminaries 
and convents, to a great extent out of his private 
means. This last conspiracy, the progress ofiwhich 
he has watched by means of his emissaries, and 
utilized to his own ends, has cost him a mint of 
money. Unless he gets some gift from the Queen, 
he is undone. He means to ask her Majesty to 
bestow Babington’s estate, which is said to be the 
finest property in Derbyshire, on you ; and he will 
probably get it, because he ascribed to you the 
X3rincipal part in the disclosure of the conspiracy. 
You already stand high in the favour of the Queen, 
whom God preserve ! She has twice sent a 
messenger to inquire after your well-being ; each 
time your uncle had to answer that you were still 
suffering from the fever you had contracted in her 
Majesty’s service.” 

“The next report will be that I am dead and 
buried,” I rejoined. “It will be true ; for once the 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 469 


gates of the Tower are closed on me, I shall be dead 
and buried as far as this world goes. You mean 
kindly, and I thank you for your good intentions ; 
but I would rather be buried alive than incur the 
guilt of innocent blood. I am sorry that my uncle 
should get into trouble on my account, but we all 
know ingratitude is the wordling’s reward. ” 

Thereupon Gray drew a paper from his doub- 
let, and laying his hand on my arm, said : “I arrest 
you in the Queen’s name by order of the Secretary 
of State.” 

I followed him without resistance. At the 
door of the house two armed men placed themselves 
on either side of me, and we passed through the 
narrow alleys to the riverside, where a boat was 
waiting. We soon reached the Tower, on whose 
turrets and battlements the calm moonlight rested. 
Once more I looked up at the glorious moon and 
the star-lit firmament ; once more I inhaled the 
cool night air, as a light wind from the sea fanned 
my temples ; once more X heard the sounds of mirth 
and music wafted on the breeze from the southward 
side. “A few moments,” I said to myself, “and 
you will be cast into God knows what underground 
dungeon, never again to behold the clear sky, to 
breathe the fresh air, or hear the sound of merry 
laughter! ” 

Passing the King’s stairs and the Traitor’s 
gate, we stopped at a landing place opposite the 
Cradle tower, the so-called Tower docks, a narrow 
embankment between the river on the one side and 
the moat of the fortress on the other. As we 
stepped out of the boat, Gray, who sat beside me 


470 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

without speaking, laid his hand on my arm, and 
said : “One word and we go back!” I shook my 
head ; the narrow drawbridge over the moat was 
let down. A man came forward from the shadow 
of the gateway to meet ns. It was the Lieutenant 
of the Tower ; he conducted me in silence into the 
interior of the fortress, past the Bloody tower, 
where a sentry challenged us, and across the 
green to the Bell tower, where he unlocked 
the door of a prison, which was, I thought, to be 
my abode for an unlimited time, probably until the 
day of my death. 

This cell I recognized at the first glance as the 
one wherein, in Henry VIIFs reign, John Fisher, 
the Bishop of Rochester, was confined. He, with 
the learned Chancellor Thomas More, and a few 
Carthusian monks, had the courage to adhere to 
the old faith, and refuse to acknowledge the Royal 
Supremacy. The dungeon in question is a vaulted 
apartment not more than five feet square, occupy- 
ing the upper story of the round tower. The walls 
are of enormous thickness ; several loophole-like 
windows look onto the Thames, onto the Byeward 
tower opposite, or across the broad moat to the 
heights of Tower hill. Before a clumsy chimney- 
place some bundles of straw were piled to form a 
bed ; the floor was composed of rough paving 
stones. It was considered one of the best cells 
in the Tower, yet I shivered when I thought of 
spending the winter, aye, many a winter too, 
within its damp, cold walls. Only the remembrance 
of the holy Bishop, an old man of 75 years, who 
half a century before, had inhabited and sancti- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 471 

fied by his presence this dismal place, inspired me 
with courage and resolution. 

Now began for me the monotonous, miserable 
life of a prisoner, for which the confinement in 
my uncle’s house had but poorly prepared me. 
There I could sit comfortably at the window, and 
watch the coming and going in the street below. 
Here the windows were so high that it was all I 
could do to lay hold of the iron bars and pull 
myself up for a moment to catch a glimpse of 
the river or of Tower hill. Hour after hour I 
paced up and down, to and fro in the narrow 
space between the walls of my cell. Then I would 
throw myself upon my couch of straw to rest, and 
resume after a while my weary march. Thus day 
after day, and week after week went by. The 
autumn passed and winter came, with its short 
days and long nights, when rough winds raged 
round the Tower, and drove cold rain or whirling 
snow through the crevices of the ill-fitting case- 
ments ; or an icy fog rose from the Thames, and 
enveloped tower and tenement in a damp, white 
shroud. The joyous feast of Christmas passed, 
the remembrance of which made my captivity 
more intolerable, and the New Year followed 
with a frost so sharp that the water in my 
pitcher froze, and I could only quench my thirst 
with lumps of ice which melted in my mouth. 

And how were my thoughts occupied during 
all these days, one of which exactly resembled 
the other, and during the long, dreary nights, 
when the cold prevented one from sleeping? I 
had leisure to think of my past life, and repent 


472 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

of my disloyal resistance to the known truth. 
Yes, I had indeed been disloyal. A long time 
ago in Richmond Park I had acknowledged to my- 
self, that the Church of Christ could never depart 
from the doctrines of her founder, and Campion’s 
book had strengthened that persuasion. All that 
I had seen since, the example of the martyred 
priests ; the much-enduring Queen, her innocence, 
her gentleness and her angelic patience ; the heroic 
courage displayed by Miss Cecil, in giving up all 
for conscience’s sake ; Windsor’s noble behaviour 
and Christian forgiveness ; all this, in contrast to 
the conduct of Elizabeth and her ministers, the vile 
forgery committed by Walsingham — all this had 
served to confirm my conviction. I now saw how 
worthless were the arguments wherewith I had 
sought to combat them, how wilfully I had shut 
my eyes to the truth, how I had persuaded myself 
that I was not bound to join the old, proscribed 
religion, or at least that I might defer giving in my 
adhesion to it until a more favourable occasion. I 
remembered the words of Scripture : “I called, and 
you refused,” and the awful threat that follows 
those words. I felt truly contrite for my sins, 
besought mercy from God, and accepted my im- 
prisonment as a just chastisement. Such were my 
meditations throughout the days and nights of that 
terrible winter. 

The old man, Bill Bell, who brought me my 
food, used often to stay and talk with me awhile. I 
spoke to him about the old and about the new re- 
ligion, and soon discovered that he had remained a 
Catholic at heart, albeit, like thousands of his fellow- 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 473 


countrymen, he had yielded to the pressure of 
persecution, hoping that in time the old religion 
would be re-established. I tried to set before him 
the obligation of making profession publicly of his 
belief, and declared my own readiness to do so, 
provided an opportunity presented itself. He then 
told me of Father Crichton, and of the services held 
by night in the Earl of Arundel 7 s cell, in the Beau- 
champ tower, which was connected with the Bell 
tower by what was called the prisoner 1 s way . On my 
expressing an earnest desire to have an interview 
with Fr. Crichton, and to assist at the service, Bill 
Bell said he would mention it to Miss Bellamy, 
of whose self-sacrificing charity he had already 
spoken to me. Without a bribe the warder of the 
Beauchamp would not leave the door open leading 
to the walk along the ramparts ; he hoped Miss 
Bellamy w^ould give what was required, for he 
knew I had not so much as a groat in my pos- 
session. 

This conversation took place towards the end of 
January. A few days later Bill remarked to me 
that the morrow was Candlemas Hay, and it was 
quite possible that he might forget to lock my 
door that evening. If I chose, I might see, about 
3 o’clock in the morning, whether the small door 
of the Beauchamp to wer was left ajar, for on a feast 
of Our Lady, Lord Arundel was almost certain to 
have mass in the prison. All day long I prayed 
that this plan might succeed, and all the night I 
watched anxiously for the clock to strike three. 
Never did the time appear as long. Before the last 
stroke of the bell had died away, I left my cell, and 


474 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

felt my way along the dark corridor. It was a 
stormy night ; snow and frozen rain beat over the 
ramparts, as I crept along beneath them. All at 
once I heard footsteps behind me ; I gave myself 
up for lost, as there was no means of turning aside. 
But I perceived the figure following me to be that 
of a woman, and I conjectured aright that it was 
none other than Miss Bellamy, to whom I was in- 
debted for this opportunity of hearing mass. I 
attempted to thank her, but she stopped me, say- 
ing, for the man who saved Windsor’s life, she 
would do much more. Then I remembered she was 
Windsor’s betrothed, and that she had helped Miss 
Cecil to leave the country. I would willingly have 
said a few words more, but she reminded me that 
it was neither the time nor the place for conversa- 
tion, and only asked me to pray for her sister, who 
had died not many hours before. 

In Arundel’s cell all was ready for mass. I 
knelt down amongst the few persons present, and 
followed the great act of worship with faith and 
devotion. What a mystery of faith, that the Al- 
mighthy Creator of heaven and earth should des- 
cend into this poor prison under the form of bread ! 
What a mystery of love, that He should accomplish 
this marvel of divine omnij)otence ! A mystery 
worthy of a religion founded by God Himself, at 
which my heart rejoiced and yet trembled. The 
short address Fr. Crichton delivered on the festival 
of the day, struck me forcibly also. The idea of 
sacrifice as the root of all that is good and profit- 
able to the soul, sank deep into my mind. After 
mass I spoke to Father Crichton, telling him who I 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 475 

was, how unfaithful I had been to grace, and how 
greatly I desired to return to the fold of the one 
true Church, founded by Christ Himself. He was 
extremely kind, and accompanied me to my ceil, 
where he heard my confession and gave me abso- 
lution. As he spoke the words of pardon, tears of 
contrition and repentance streamed from my 
eyes, and unspeakable peace took possession of my 
heart. 

How happy I then felt! I thought I should be 
content to spend the remainder of my days in the 
dungeons of the Tower. What was earthly suffer- 
ing to one who was a child of God, an heir of the 
kingdom of heaven! 

About a week later, as it was getting dark one 
evening, I heard shouts of joy in the direction of 
Tower Hill, and saw the red glare of a great fire. 
I raised myself by laying hold of the iron bars of 
the grating before the window sufficiently to see a 
multitude of citizens dancing around a bonfire as if 
intoxicated with delight ; they gave cheers for 
Elizabeth, the valiant Judith, who had beheaded 
the female Holophernes. I guessed at once what 
this rejoicing meant, for I had been told that 
in the foregoing October Mary Stuart was con- 
demned to death by the Star Chamber at West- 
minster. I will give a brief account of the unjust 
and iniquitous proceedings against this guiltless 
Queen. J ) 

When she was brought back to Chartley, the 
chair of state and canopy had been removed from 
her apartments and Sir Amias Paulet, that stern 


J ) Cf. Hosack, vol. ii, pp. 409—432. 


476 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

Puritan, began to treat her like a common crim- 
inal. She bore this with truly regal dignity. She 
was subsequently conveyed to Fotheringhay, be- 
cause there was not a hall at Chartley of sufficient 
dimensions for the Court of Delegates before whom 
she was to be brought. At first she refused, in 
virtue of her privileges as a Queen, to appear 
before the thirty-six judges who were to find her 
guilty of participation in the plot to murder 
Elizabeth ; but Sir Christopher Hatton overcame 
her scruples, on the ground that if she refused 
to plead, the world would attribute her obstinacy 
to consciousness of guilt. Without counsel or 
defence she finally appeared before the tribunal, 
composed of her deadly enemies. The whole 
question turned upon the authenticity of the let- 
ter to Babington which Walsingham laid before 
the tribunal. Had I been there, and had I been 
able to produce the documents my uncle had the 
meanness to destroy, the whole charge would have 
fallen to the ground. She could do nothing but 
declare the letter to be a forgery, and refer to 
the original draft in her own hand, which was 
among her papers. She was told this draft could 
not be found, and that her secretary Curie had 
asserted that it had been burnt by her orders. 
She demanded to be confronted with the witnes- 
ses, but this was not permitted to her. Turning 
to Walsingham, she observed that it was an easy 
matter to counterfeit ciphers ; and Walsingham 
could only call God to witness that in his private 
capacity he had done nothing unbefitting an honest 
man, and as a minister, he had done nothing un- 
worthy of his place. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 477 


This happened in the castle at Fotheringhay. 
The court was afterwards removed to Westminster 
where, in defiance of all judicial rule, the proceed- 
ings were carried on without the presence of the 
accused, and finally on the 29th of October, the 
judges, with the honourable exception of Lord 
Zouch, passed sentence of death on the Queen of 
Scots. This judgment was confirmed by both 
Houses of Parliament, who petitioned the Queen 
that it might immediately be carried into execu- 
tion. On the 6th of December it was proclaimed 
by sound of trumpet in London ; the ringing of bells 
and bonfires announced it to me in my prison then, 
just as now the shouting on Tower Hill acquainted 
me with its execution. That same evening when 
Bell came in, he told me Mary Stuart had been be- 
headed at Fotheringhay on the 8th of February. 

Three days later another surprise was prepared 
for me. The Lieutenant of the Tower appeared, 
conducting my uncle, Sir Francis, into my wretched 
dungeon. Hopton was about to withdraw, but 
Walsingham, who looked pale and tired, after 
casting a glance round the inhospitable apartment, 
requested him to show him some more habitable 
chamber where he could converse with his nephew. 
Accordingly the Lieutenant led the way to a 
room adjoining the Council Chamber, where after 
kindling some logs upon the hearth he left us 
alone. 

I was astonished to perceive the change that 
had come over my uncle during the last five 
months. The poor man had aged greatly, his 
features were sunken and haggard, and his dress, 


478 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

richly embroidered with gold, hung about his 
emaciated form. He seated himself before the fire, 
and held out his hands to the grateful warmth. For 
some time he neither looked at nor spoke to me. 
At length I said : “Are you ill, uncle?” 

“Slightly indisposed, not exactly ill,” he re- 
plied, adding with a bitter laugh : “Such treatment 
as I have received from our most gracious (he em- 
phasized the words) Sovereign, after all the victims 
I have laid upon her altar, is enough to turn one’s 
blood to gall! Yes, I shall have to lay by awhile, 
unless she spares me the pains, by sending her 
physician in ordinary with axe and block, or with 
rope and knife to cure me. She is quite capable of 
it, and would do it, if she thought my blood would 
wash away the stain which the death of her rival 
has left on her reputation for sanctity! As for Da- 
vison, I should not wonder if the poor devil lost 
his head!” 

I scarcely knew what answer to make. “You 
are reaping what you sowed,” I thought within 
myself,“and you deserve a worse punishment.” But 
he was my uncle, who had done a great deal forme, 
and had really been fond of me ; and as I saw 
him sitting there looking so wretched and broken 
down, compassion stirred in my heart, and I sought 
to comfort him with the hope that the Queen would 
take him again into favour. 

But he motioned to me to be silent, and con- 
tinued : “She is quite right. She is only acting in 
accordance with the principles upon which I acted. 
If political interests require my head to fall, slie^ 
will send me to the block as ruthlessly as I sent 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 479 

Mary Stuart. If for reasons of state policy it is 
advisable that I should rot in the Tower, as many 
others have been made to do, I shall vanish into 
one of these vaults. Or if it is preferable that I 
should perish by the hand of the assassin, as was 
the case with Northumberland, the dagger or poi- 
son will end my days. That would be nothing new 
in the annals of this country. But in duplicity and 
hypocrisy “Good Queen Bess ’ 7 outdoes all her pre- 
decessors. At the outset she urged and pressed 
us to pass the sentence of death, and meanwhile 
she wrote to the Queen of Scots saying she hoped 
that her innocence, of which both she and I were 
firmly convinced, would be made clearly apparent. 
And when the accused was declared guilty, it was 
by her Majesty’s wish that Parliament petitioned 
for the execution of the sentence. Nevertheless she 
replied how loath she was to comply with such a 
demand, and asked for the prayers of both Houses, 
that in this momentous matter she might act in 
accordance with the Spirit of God. At the same 
time she more than once made us write to Paulet 
and Drury (the additional keeper) to intimate to 
them her wish, that they should find some means 
privately to cut off the life of their prisoner. 1 ) 
Paulet, a stern and unfeeling bigot, hated Mary, 
because she was a Catholic, yet he refused in em- 
phatic terms to shed her blood without a war- 
rant. And it was well that he did so, for how 
would Elizabeth have shown her gratitude ! There- 
upon she became quite sad, and bewailed her lack 
of trusty friends and servants, since none would 


J ) Cf. Ibid. v. 2, pp. 441—445. 


480 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

carry out her injunctions. Then she signed the 
death-warrant, and delivered it to her private 
secretary Davison to append the Great Seal, and 
to trouble her no more about it. That was plain 
enough. And yet, when official intelligence came 
from Fotheringhay that the head of England’s 
greatest enemy had fallen, and for 24 hours there 
were public rejoicings in the city, she made as if 
she did not know the cause, and gave way to an 
outburst of grief that consternated her attendants. 
She declared she had been deceived by her minis- 
ters, that she never intended the warrant to be 
executed, caused Davison to be arrested and cast 
into the Tower for violating his duty, and drove 
Burghley and others, who had grown gray in her 
services and without whom she would never have 
won the crown, from her presence with a volley of 
abuse! 77 

My uncle sat for a short time by the fire in 
silence ; then he resumed in a calmer tone : “Let 
us say no more on that subject, for I did not come 
hither to complain of a woman, from whom nothing 
better could be expected. My purpose was to bring 
you a passport to enable you to leave England, 
while I am still able to grant it. You must 
choose some other career than that of a diplomat, 
since for that you are certainly not fitted. Ko 
doubt you cursed me in your heart last summer 
for shutting you up in the Tower, but believe me, 
I did so in kindness rather than in wrath, for 
otherwise you would infallibly have been executed 
for treason. I say this because I do not wish you 
to misjudge me,” 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 481 


I began to assure him of my gratitude and 
affection, but he cut me short, saying: “ Another 
thing, Francis. I wanted to see you a wealthy 
man, but I have not grown rich in the service of 
the state ; on the contrary, I have lessened my own 
estate to provide the funds required. As long as I 
am in office, my creditors will not dare to touch 
me, and after my death there will not be much for 
them to seize. I counted upon your marriage with 
Miss Cecil, and then upon Babington’s property; 
now Miss Cecil is gone, and when I asked the 
Queen to give you Babington’s estate, she had 
already bestowed it on Sir Walter Raleigh. I can 
therefore only give you this” — he pushed a purse 
filled with gold towards me — “for the expenses of 
your journey. You shall have a letter of recom- 
mendation to the extraordinary ambassador Bel- 
lievre, who came over in view of preventing the 
execution of the Queen of Scots, and who is now 
returning to Paris. * You can travel in his suite. 
Only one condition I must impose : if I restore you 
to liberty, you must give me your word of honour 
that you will never during my lifetime, divulge a 
word regarding the falsification of the letter to 
Babington.” 

I promised him this ; he shook hands with me, 
and we parted. I watched the old man as he 
passed along the narrow corridor, followed by Sir 
Owen Hopton, whom he had acquainted with the 
fact of my being set at liberty. On reaching the 
stairs he turned and looked back at me ; it was a 
last look, for I never saw him again. He died not 
long after in comparative obscurity, having brought 


482 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

himself to circumstances of such great poverty that 
he was buried privately by night, without any 
funeral solemnity. Catholics saw in this the judg- 
ment of God ; but it is not for me, his nephew, to 
say a harsh word of him now that he is dead. I 
will rather commend his soul to the divine mercy, 
and conclude my story with the ungarnished state- 
ment, that after many years of diligent and im- 
portant services to the Crown, he died in destitu- 
tion, a fact greatly to his credit. 


V- 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

The three narrators meet again, and their story is brought to 
a happy conclusion. 

They say a woman must always have the last 
word, and therefore, my husband tells me, it is for 
me, who began this story, to bring it to a conclu- 
sion. I will accordingly do so, on condition that 
he resumes the part of narrator when he is 
principally concerned in the narrative. 

St. Barbe has already mentioned that both my 
poor sister and my dear grandmother died in the 
spring of the year A. D. 1587, Anne on Candlemas 
Eve, grandmother on the night of the 15th Febr. 
In both cases their end was most edifying, for 
which I cannot be thankful enough to God. I was 
able to be with them at the last, thanks to the 
connivance of my fellow-servant. Anne recovered 
her reason shortly before her death, begged our 
forgiveness in a touching manner for the woes she 
considered herself to have been mainly instrumental 
in bringing upon us, and accepted her early death 
with pious resignation. Just at the right time 
Father Crichton brought her the Viaticum. Soon 
after her mind wandered again, and she rambled 
on about the wonderful flower at Woxindon, saying 
the last branch but one was broken off, and the 
turn of the other would come soon. Then she 
pressed our hands, drew a few deep breaths, and 
all was over. How peaceful she looked as she lay 
on that wretched pallet! The setting sun cast a 
warm glow over her marble features, and the 
(483) 


484 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

shadow of the iron bars before the window formed 
a cross on the wall beside her. 

My tears fell fast ; grandmother did not attempt 
to check them, but when I began to complain of 
our sorrowful lot, she gently reproved me, saying : 
“Child, have you forgotten that beautiful 12tli 
Chapter of the 2nd Book of the ‘Imitation of 
Christ! 7 What does our adorable Saviour promise 
to His friends here below ? Joy and pleasure, or 
the cross and suffering ? And the nearer His 
friends are to Him, the more bitter is their portion. 
To the Apostles He said: You shall drink of my 
chalice; and he ordained that a sword of sorrow 
should pierce the heart of His beloved Mother, and 
she should be crowned Queen of Martyrs. The 
measure of the sufferings He assigns to us is the 
measure of the love He bears us. But the suffer- 
ing will not last long. Now the world rejoices, 
‘you indeed have sorrow ; but I will see you again, 
and your heart shall rejoice; and your joy no man 
shall take from you 7 . 2 ) Let us thank Him there- 
fore for all our afflictions ! 7 7 

Then she uttered aloud her gratitude and love 
to God, in words which changed my tears of grief 
into tears of consolation, and which rose up to 
Heaven as a sweet canticle of praise and triumph. 
From that day forth she visibly declined, her life 
died out like a taper that had been burnt before the 
altar of God. Her last words were: “In the cross 
is salvation. 77 

It need scarcely be said that I resolved to leave 
the Tower as soon as I had closed her eyes, and 


2 ) St. John ch. 16, v. 22. 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 485 


prepared her mortal remains for burial. A scene 
in which my mistress behaved with unseemly 
violence, on discovering that I was a Papist, gave 
excuse for my immediate departure. I did not go 
forth alone ; the old boatman, whose term of deten- 
tion had expired, accompanied me, as well as St. 
Barbe, whom his uncle had, on the preceding day, 
set free, and provided with clothes. And whither, 
when we reached the Thames and stepped into a 
boat, did we direct our course, if not to the rickety 
old house at St. Catharine’s wharf, where my dear 
husband lay in hiding ? 

I will leave it to him to give an account of our 
arrival there. 

— On the next day but one after St. Valentine’s 
Day, I was sitting at my attic window, looking 
down upon the Thames, whose turbid waters, rush- 
ing and eddying below, almost resembled the 
horrible river of the infernal regions. 

Turbid hie coeno vcistaque voragine gurges 

Aestuat atque omnem Cocyto eructat arenam ! 

I sat moody and sorrowful, for to solitude and 
the misery of compulsory inaction was added the 
continual dread of detection, which would have 
been not only death to me, but to the brave lad 
who had rescued me. This daily apprehension 
preyed upon my health, and it might have had 
serious consequences, had I been subjected to such 
torture much longer. But as I gazed upon the 
river, lost in gloomy meditation, the pale rays of a 
wintry sun broke through the fog and fell upon a 
boat that was steering straight for the house. I 


486 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

instantly recognized the white-bearded man at the 
helm for my old friend Bill Bell, and was heartily 
glad to see that he had regained his liberty. But 
who were the two persons seated in the middle of 
the boat, with their backs towards me ? The figure 
of the man seemed a familiar one ; and right 
enough, when he stood up and turned round to look 
up at the house, I saw it was St. Barbe! What 
could he want ? Ought I to welcome him as a friend 
or fly from him as an enemy? While I thus 
doubted, to my astonishment I saw him politely 
offer his arm to the young woman by his side, an 
ordinary maidservant, to judge by her dress. But 
when she looked up, and I saw her dear face and 
met her bright blue eyes, I should have known her 
among a thousand! Down I flew, regardless of the 
shaky ladder and steep, clumsy stairs, into the 
room below, which she was just entering, and we 
threw ourselves into each other’s arms kissing and 
hugging one another, laughing and crying for joy. 

Presently I turned to St. Barbe, whose presence 
I had overlooked in the transport of my delight. 
All was explained in a few words. When he told 
me he had been received into the Church, I 
embraced him with fraternal affection. I thanked 
him for sparing my life, but he would not listen to 
me, saying he had only paid off an old debt, for he 
remembered the day when I fished him out of the 
Trent. Then he spoke of our departure from Eng- 
land, which now offered few difficulties. The pass- 
port his uncle had given him was one such as 
envoys usually have, and in it mention was 
expressly made of “domestics”. In this character 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 487 


my betrothed and I could safely occompany him. 
Yet we thought it wiser to act upon Walsingham’s 
suggestion, and travel with the French ambassador. 
Accordingly St. Barbe went to present himself to 
M. de Bellievre, taking with him a letter from 
Mary, in which Mendoza’s letter of recommenda- 
tion was enclosed. 

We had much to tell and to hear, and the 
hours passed rapidly. At nightfall St. Barbe 
returned, to announce that all was arranged ; the 
ambassador started for Paris the next day but one, 
and would be happy to take us in his suite. St. 
Barbe also brought a note from Mme. de Bellievre 
for my betrothed, inviting her to join her at once at 
her residence. Thus we parted again, but this 
time in joyous expectation. 

The next day was one of busy preparation. 
Before sunrise on the day after, we were at St. 
Paul’s stairs, where we went, in the ambassador’s 
suite, on board the vessel that was to transport him 
and us to France. Still a few anxious moments 
were in reserve for us. We were about to weigh 
anchor, when a party of Walsingham’s agents — 
Pooley, I believe, among them — came on board to 
inspect our papers. They appeared satisfied, how- 
ever, and after that we had nothing more to fear. 
Our bark moved slowly down the Thames ; once 
more we saw Bill Bell’s old house standing over 
the water, the turrets and walls of the gloomy 
Tower, and then London was left behind in the 
morning mist, while we cautiously made our way 
between the ships at anchor and the flat banks, till 
the wind rose, the fog lifted, and with canvas 


488 THE WONDER FUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

spread, our ship sped forward like Neptune’s 
chariot, whose wheels scarce touched the crested 
waves : 

Atque rotis summas levibus perlabitur undas! 

Finally the French coast and then Paris were 
happily reached. The meeting was touching be- 
tween Mary and her brother Frith, who had grown 
quite a great boy. The poor lad cried when he 
heard of the death of so many of his relatives; but 
the good spirits of childhood, and the pleasure of 
seeing his friends again soon got the upper hand. 
My betrothed was also delighted to see her friend, 
Miss Cecil, again. Of St. Barbe’s meeting with 
Burghley’s daughter it is not for me to speak, but 
as he will not say anything, except that she ex- 
pressed great gladness on hearing that he had be- 
come a Catholic, I may as well mention that the 
wisdom of the old Abbess at Montmartre, in not 
admitting Miss Cecil as a postulant, was very soon 
X^roved. In fact a year later those two, Miss 
Cecil namely, and St. Barbe, were married on the 
self-same day, and at the self-same altar, that of our 
Lady, as ourselves, to wit, Mary Bellamy and my- 
self, Edward Windsor; quietly and joyfully the 
double wedding was kept. As I am not merely 
writing a romance, or love story, but recording 
facts that really occurred, I think it would ill be- 
seem me, to take leave of the reader with the sound 
of marriage- bells ringing in our ears. I will rather, 
in order to lay the top stone ux>on the edifice, or if 
you will, to add the last flower to the garland, say 
a few words about the solemn requiem held on the 
day after our arrival, by order of his Majesty 


THE WONDERFUL FLO WER OF WOXINDON. 489 


Henry III, in the cathedral of Notre Dame, for the 
deceased Queen of Scots. 

The vast and magnificent structure was hung 
throughout with black cloth, festooned beneath the 
arches, and draped about the columns. In the 
choir stood a grand catafalque with the escutcheons 
of France, England, Scotland and Ireland, to the 
crown of which countries Mary Stuart laid claim. 
Above these were a sceptre and diadem of gold, 
sparkling with jewels, while all around tall palm- 
branches testified that she, like the holy martyrs, 
had come out victorious from the deadly strife. 
The bier was surrounded by innumerable wax 
tapers, some of which were on tall silver candle- 
sticks, while some were held by officials of high 
position. The whole Court was present ; his most 
Christian Majesty Henry III, the dowager Queen, 
Catharine of Medici, the Princes and Princesses of 
royal blood, besides the Duke of Guise, with other 
illustrious Dukes, and the flower of the French 
nobility. For these one half of the choir was 
reserve#, the other being occupied by ecclesiastics 
of the highest rank, the Papal Legate, the Cardinal 
Archbishop of Paris, a multitude of Bishops and 
Prelates, Cathedral dignitaries, Doctors of the Sor- 
bonne, and Heads of Eeligious Houses. The spa- 
cious nave of the Cathedral was one mass of people, 
all dressed in mourning.#! was much affected by 
the sight of the church only, thronged with devout 
worshippers, lamenting the unjust but glorious 
death of an illustrious Princess, with whom St. 
Barhe (who was kneeling at my side) and I had 
been brought into close contact, and with whose 


490 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

fortunes our own had, to a great extent, been bound 
up. But when the subdued, sweet notes of the 
organ echoed through the lofty aisles, and the choir 
of the Chapel Royal began to chant the touching 
strains of the Libera , I wept like a child. It seemed 
to me however, that, on this occasion, this lament 
and appeal for mercy might be well replaced by the 
song of joy and triumph which the Church appoints 
for the commemoration of her martyrs. 

The same opinion was expressed by the Bishop 
of Bourges, Mgr. Renaud de Beaune, who pro- 
nounced the panegyric. He declared the victim 
thus shamefully put to death to be in every sense a 
martyr. Scarcely a dry eye was to be seen in the 
assembly when he depicted her death, and described 
how with majestic composure she ascended the 
scaffold erected in the great hall at Fotheringhay, 
and declared in unfaltering tones : “I am by birth a 
Princess and an anointed Queen, and not amen- 
able to the laws of this country. I am a near 
relative of the Queen and her rightful heir. It is 
unjustly that I suffer, but I thank God, that I am 
permitted to die for my religion. I am wholly in- 
nocent of having plotted the death of the Queen, or 
of having by word or deed, sanctioned any attempt 
against her person. ” Then the Bishop went on to 
tell how the protestant Dean of Peterborough persist- 
ently exhorted her at tJfe supreme moment to aban- 
don her religion, and she again and again informed 
him that she was resolved to die in the faith in 
which she had lived, answering when counselled to 
lay aside the crucifix which she carried in her hand, 
“It is not easy to carry the image in one’s hand 


THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 491 

without bearing it in one’s heart, and nothing befits 
the Christian on his way to death than to keep 
before him the image of the Saviour.” The audi- 
ence were filled with pity and admiration as the 
preacher continued: “She then in the hearing of 
all present, .prayed for the Pope, for the welfare of 
the Church and of the Christian princes, for her 
Son, for Queen Elizabeth and for all her enemies. 
When her ladies in vain attempted to restrain their 
sobs, she comforted them, saying: “Weep not, but 
rather rejoice. I am willing to depart out of this 
world, to die for so good a cause.” And with 
words of prayer upon her lips, she laid her head 
upon the block, and received the deathstroke. O 
happy death, O glorious victory ! The only crime 
that could be proved against her, was her adher- 
ence to the Catholic Faith. 

This, and much else that the Bishop of Bourges 
said, moved all who heard him to tears. Much 
more did it affect us who had had personal inter- 
course with the royal lady of whom he spoke. As 
we left the Cathedral, St. Barbe said to me : “When 
Elizabeth’s turn comes to die, she will not lay 
her head down with the same tranquil composure 
wherewith Mary Stuart laid hers upon the block. 
I believe her end will be one of black despair!” 

My friend’s words came true, as is well known. 
What, I ask you, does it avail the proud Elizabeth 
now to have been an object of adoration to her 
subjects? What are crown and sceptre, prison and 
fetters, axe and block, when weighed on the balance 
of eternity ? 


EPILOGUE 

Addressed to her Imperial Highness Isabella Clara Eugenia. 

And now the somewhat lengthy story of the 
events of our past lives, commenced last May by 
yonr Imperial Highness 7 command, and continued 
by us conjointly during the summer, is at last 
completed, and neatly written out in the book which 
your Imperial Highness ordered from Brussels for 
the purpose, I may quote the words of Marus at the 
close of the second book of the Georgies, and say : 

Sed nos immensum spatiis confecimus aequor , 

Et iam tempus equilm fumantia solvere colla! 

Truly, a wide tract has been traversed, and it 
is time to loose the yoke from the necks of the 
steaming horses ! And as the traveller, when he 
reaches his destination, pauses awhile, and looks 
back at the road he has covered, so we too may 
look back and thank God for His merciful guidance. 
Clouds came up, the tempest burst with terrific 
violence, threatening general destruction, but we 
were unhurt, and a still evening followed, with a 
bright rainbow, while light clouds tinged with gold 
flitted across the sky. 

How it has since fared with my dear wife and 
myself your Imperial Highness knows full well; 
for our life had been like that of a little bark in a 
tranquil harbour, from the time we entered your 
service, and have enjoyed a far larger share of 
your favour than our poor merits deserve. 

St. Barbe also, or rather Brother Anselm, sees 
in all that lias befallen him the gracious hand of 
( 492 ) 


THE WONDEBFUL FLOWEE OF WOXINDON. 493 


Providence, although he has been led by rougher 
paths than we have ; for God in His wisdom, as- 
signs the heavier cross to the stronger shoulders, 
and He knows best what each one of us can bear. 

Quid valeant humeri , quid ferre recusent. 

After a few years of happy married life his 
beloved Judith and his only child were taken from 
him. Her death was most edifying ; with her last 
breath she exhorted her husband not to murmur at 
her loss, but rather to thank Heaven for the happi- 
ness they had enjoyed, and above all for the grace 
of having both been brought into the Church, for 
whose faithful children death has few terrors. 
Shortly after St. Barbe took the habit of a humble 
Capuchin, and found in the Order of the seraphic 
Saint of Assisi the peace which the world failed to 
give him. 

Frith is equally happy as a member of the 
Society of Jesus. In accordance with his earnest 
wish, he has been sent on the dangerous English 
mission. He has revisited Woxindon, and prayed 
beside the grave of his parents. The oak beneath 
which they were laid to rest, is still standing, but 
the house is in ruins. The property brought no 
blessing to our Cousin Page, who purchased it by 
his apostacy. Frith is now labouring as a priest 
at Preston, in Lancashire, in constant, peril, or 
rather in constant hope, of following in the steps 
of his brother in religion, Edmund Campion, and 
receiving, like him, a martyr’s crown. 

Here, in Tervueren, my wife and I lead a quiet, 
peaceful life, a life almost too free from trouble for 
this world. Our two children Bemy and Anne, 


494 THE WONDERFUL FLOWER OF WOXINDON. 

have married happily, and when they come from 
the neighbouring town of Brussels to visit us, they 
now bring our little grandchildren with them. The 
all-merciful God has indeed dealt bountifully with 
us, and as I have already said, after the storms we 
experienced in our youth, He has made us find 
life’s eventide sweet, through the gracious favour 
your Imperial Highness extends to us. To Him be 
praise and thanksgiving forever ! 

To you, illustrious Princess, our kind Patron- 
ess, we, the three narrators of this story, The 
Wonderful Flower of Woxindon , venture to offer our 
book, as an expression of our heartfelt affection, 
and of the gratitude which, after God, we owe to 
your Imperial Highness. 


THE END. 




































- 




















4 





























































































































. 
















y 
















- 






























































4 ' 









/ ' 















> 














- 

i i 























































































































































‘ ■ 


































































» 










{ 






































* 
















— 



































































- 






■ 














































— 






































































f 











































































‘ 










* 


















- - t 


















• . 
























. 

y 








<* 

















































































































































» 
















» 


* 












V 












^ V 1 , ; ’ 5 A 


- 

. '■ 

«• — , .. v 


, 

* 

- 

' - ’ 






% 































































. 


































































































- 














































































"N 


























ffJa 

ixar 




ViZJj 
iff ft 


ooo230'B5&t>5 





